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Show W.N.U.TEA.TUREJ Davao silver in the first dawn light, and then oh, lovely, lovely sight! a big boat sitting well offshore surrounded sur-rounded by a protecting circle of destroyers, all of them motionless, not a wisp of smoke coming from a funnel. We've caught them asleep with no steam up, the Japs are snoringlike snor-inglike so many Pearl Harbor brass-hats his is what we've been waiting for! "But now comes a change. Over my interphones I hear Stone, bombardier bom-bardier of the lead plane, calling to Combs, who is leading us. " 'Do you mind if we change over, sir?' he asks. 'I see our real target now.' "We've now roared in almost to our bomb-release line, but Combs agrees. We bank up and change over, now heading apparently for lower Davao Harbor. "Peering out of the window on the bank, I get one glimpse of it and now understand the reason for the change the most tremendous concentration con-centration of shipi I ever saw in my life. Everything, big boys, cruisers of all sizes, transports, submarines, destroyers, gunboats, bunched in there dotting the water so thick we couldn't possibly miss but now we're on our bomb run, and I'm steadying the plane down to go on the PDI. (Pilot's direction instrument.) instru-ment.) To you it's just one of many wavering needles on this big instrument in-strument panel. But it's hooked up with the bomb sight in the compart- THE STORY THUS FAR: Llcnt. Col. Frank Kurtz, Flying Fortress pilot, tells of that fatal day when the Japs struck in the Philippines. Eight of his men are killed in Old 99 before the Fort could get off the ground. The step by step escape to Australia is described, and how Christmas Christ-mas day Is spent by U. S. flyers tn Australia. But Kurtz Is worrying about two Forts on a mission. Radio report comes from Schaetzel saying he'd be In after dark with one body aboard and have ambulance ready. General Brere-ton Brere-ton lands on Batchclor Field and orders all bombers moved to Java at once. Kurd , reaches well camouflaged field in Java, with load of bombs. Describes social system of the Dutch. CHAPTER VIII "Next day we headed out over the Java Sea toward Borneo and, following instructions, found a likely looking river, dropping down to low altitude, and began following it back upcountry, and then, just on schedule, sched-ule, we made out Samarinda Field in the late-afternoon sunlight in spite of its camouflage.- And it was the best job we'd ever seen, better than Malang. We'd had practically no time for camouflage at all in the Philippines. But here the Dutch had hewed this field out of the teeming teem-ing jungle uprooted the stumps, leveled it off, planted it with grass, and then covered it with wooden saw-horses saw-horses that would knock the stuffing stuff-ing out of any plane that tried to land through them. Only when you circled the field, out came a crowd of natives on the run I suppose they were wild men of Borneo the Dutch had tamed. They would remove re-move the sawhorses only from that particular runway you were supposed sup-posed to use, and the minute your wheels touched the ground they'd start recovering the runway behind you. "Right away we went to pilots' meeting, where we lined out the mission for Davao Bay. "The Japs, we knew, seldom flew at night, but we were flying in a V of Vs. Jim Connally, George Schaetzel, and I made up the third flight, which, I might point out, is the dirty spot, because in those days you could expect most Jap attacks from the rear. Then we started that long climb for altitude which means safety for the Fortress, a, hell of a big and vulnerable target near the ground. "But while we are still climbing, George Schaetzel is lagging. Engine trouble, we later found out. George drops out entirely, which leaves Jim Connally and me alone to handle the dirty spot. "Presently the formation levels off, and then ahead of us we see an enormous black mass of weather in what is left of the dwindling twilight. twi-light. It's laid out horizontally right across our path starting at about 12,000 feet, it seems to go on up forever. "So what do we do? Our orders are to keep in formation, so we can all hit Davao at the same time, and not go over dispersed at intervals, where the Zeros, rising at the first alarm, can slaughter the stragglers. "But if we go into this cloud bank, maybe it goes on for miles and we'll lose each other inside of it, and never nev-er be able to assemble for the attack. at-tack. "The leader decides we'll try to go around it, so, turning, we fly parallel to it. But it seems endless, end-less, and after flying for forty-five minutes, we see that in this attempted at-tempted detour we've wasted precious pre-cious gasoline our margin of safety safe-ty to get to the target and get home is down to almost zero. , "Which means we can't go on. "We returned to Samarinda, landed, land-ed, gassed up, and then without any rest or sleep started to take, off again for Davao at midnight. This time we were sure we wouldn't miss. "Again we run into thick fog," went on Frank, "when we go up next night. My co-pilot Collvin and I fly alternately our eyes smarting and streaming from the strain and staring through the windshield at those formation lights of the planes ahead, not daring to lose sight of them for fear we will then be lost and alone in the night. As dawn breaks I see Broadhurst's Fortress by the number on its tail. It is too late to go on into Davao, just two of us, so we turn and start mournfully mourn-fully back to Samarinda. "At one o'clock in the morning we again took off on the long flight to the target between four and five hours. For the first few hours we were lucky. The clouds were well stratified and we. flew between two layers of them, so we' didn't have to fly both weather and instruments. "This time we arrive at the previously pre-viously agreed point where we are to make that 120-degree turn and come directly in on Davao, and as we swing up and over for that sharp bank, I get my only glimpse of the target, which ordinarily the pilot never sees in detail. From where he sits he can only see the sky and the distant horizon ahead. It's the bombardier who can look straight down and a little ahead, who pulls the plane in over that tiny pinpoint to be attacked. But now I'm about to see it for myself just one look w hen my wing is cocked high in the j air. "And then I get my only glimpse out of the tilled side window, the city still asleep, the upper Bay of hell that first flight has done, but don't dare look up to see if Combs has turned off the target yet I must stay glued to that needle my co-pilot is glued to it too, giving me the corrections on my run. "It must be as carefully timed as a violin duet. My bombardier below be-low there needs the gentle touch of ft violinist on his controls and I must follow with equally gentle pressures on the rudder. If he gets excited, and in correcting an error, moves his controls too far, then, following that weaving needle, I'll push a pedal too far and we'll throw the Fortress out of her groove. "I'm almost praying he won't do this. 'Come on, boy,' I mutter to him, 'don't let it run down your leg, now! don't overcorrecti' "Now I take the risk of just one glance away from the needle through the windshield to see the second flight just going in on its bomb-release line. The ack-ack fire, which for the first flight was too high, is now breaking below the second sec-ond flight. That means they'll see they've bracketed us, and next time they make a change in fuses down below about the time our third flight is going over they'll have us square. "Just then I hear a gunner shouting shout-ing over the interphones: " 'Fighters, coming up at nine o'clock!' I can't see them yet wonder won-der where they're coming from. Maybe off a carrier. Then ' why didn't we make a run on that? Maybe May-be Cecil did, and missed. Maybe my bombardier sees it and we are making our run on it. No, I think, they're probably off the ground. The Japs have probably got the countryside country-side around Davao laced with landing land-ing strips by this time the enterprising enter-prising little so-and-sos. (Lay your watch down on the table in front of you. At twelve o'clock the hour hand points straight ahead. At three o'clock it points to the right. At nine o'clock it points to the left.) "Now my own gunners are talking: talk-ing: 'They're coming up in a long, slow spiral, like hornets out of a nest coming up so straight you can even see their bellies. I get the first rumble of the antiaircraft fire as the ship flutters. A quick glance ahead shows the puffs are right on our level now. "Then I get mad again. Because it said in our schoolbooks that the Jap antiaircraft fire couldn't hit anything any-thing above 18,000. Here we are, laying it to them from almost twice that altitude, and they're putting it right back up to us. "Then I get a feeling of exultation. exulta-tion. Because down under us and not far ahead now is that Jap Pearl Harbor setup big ships with stone-cold stone-cold boilers. Now they must be running run-ning frantically around the engine rooms trying to stoke the fires and get steam up, knowing while they're hurrying that it's too late just as they knew at Pearl Harbor, but all you can do is hurry, so you do it anyway. Well, we've got them where we wanted them, even if there are only ten of us got them where they had Old 99 just about a month ago. "Then I jump, for the ship quivers quiv-ers from a burst of fire from our own .50-caliber guns. Then quickly another and another. Zeros coming com-ing up, banking to come in and rake us with their fire? But when nothing is said of them over the interphones, I know my boys are only firing little lit-tle bursts to warm the oil in their guns, making sure the guns won't jam when we are really hit by fighters. fight-ers. "Suddenly the plane's nose lurches upward and to the left, and hardly have I straightened her out onto even keel when she tries to make another twist. It's the blast from the ack-ack fire invisible billows of air sent out by each explosion, and now it's as rough as though we were bouncing in a Model T over a Missouri Mis-souri dirt road three days aftef a rain. "At. my side my copilot, who has been looking out through the windshield, wind-shield, hollers: 'Jim's bombs are on their way.' I don't dare take my eye from the needle. "Just then I get the click from my own bombardier. Our bomb-bay bomb-bay doors are open now I feel the slight drag on the plane, and with my rudder correct for it, and then that double click on the interphone which means he's telling me: 'Ship level, Frank, please.' And I don't answer except with my feet so firmly firm-ly but gently on the rudders, giving him that absolutely level bombing platform he has to have if we're to hit the target. "And at last the precious amber light glows on my instrument panel, which means he's now actually flicking flick-ing the bombs off, one by one, and I keep my feet so softly on the rudders that they hardly touch, so as not to give the tiniest sidewise throw to the bombs. Up in the cockpit cock-pit we hold our breath. We know down below the bombardier is flicking flick-ing them off four 600-pounders at half-second intervals. "Then as he calls, 'Bombs away!' at that split second we quit working for the Government and begin to work for our wives and families. Because that means the last bomb has left the plane and we' can now close the bomb-bay doors, and our objective is now only to get home safely. CTO BE CONTINUED) Up came a pretty blonde Dutch nurse In a Red Cross uniform. ment below. The bombardier has his sensitive fingers on those controls, keeping the target ahead framed in the cross hairs. Every time he moves them a fraction of an inch, the change is registered in that PDI needle on my instrument panel. I can't see the target, of course, but if I follow the needle I can't miss it. "Now our nerves are tightening up. I glance fleetingly ahead and see Cecil Combs in the lead plane, going over the target. Since we're bringing up -the rear, Cecil is about nine miles away, and his big Fortress For-tress looks about the size of a wren. That sky ahead is filled with dirty soot-gray ack-ack puffs, making a spotty layer above him. The Japs on the ground have cut their fuses just a little too long to pick off Cecil, but I know that in a very few seconds more I'm going to get a closer view of this ack-ack. I pray Cecil's bombardier won't miss, although al-though he's too far ahead for us to see his bombs leave. 'Damn it, Stone, now lay 'em down the alley, boy!' But that kid won't miss; he's one of the best' bombardiers in the business. Now he's laying his train, Pearl Harbor style, on those Japs, who are lying there without steam up only again I'm raging. Here we are, with a Pearl Harbor setup for a target, but only ten of us, while the Japs hit Hawaii with many scores. "My navigator has laid aside his tools in the compartment below, and now comes crawling up through the trapdoor to squeeze back through the bomb bays, between the rows of bombs and gas tanks, into the radio compartment, where he'll man a machine gun against Jap fighters. "There's no interphone talking now except between gunners. We've broken radio silence the hell with it now. We see them down there and of course they see us up here. Anything we can do to bring the formation for-mation in right is okay. So now the earphones crackle with the excited cross talk of machine-gunners, all peering out their windows on the lookout for Zeros. "I take a quick glance out of the side window to make sure I'm not ahead of Jim. I've got to stay even with him so my gunners can protect pro-tect his tail and his gunners can protect mine. And I wonder how in |