12 August 1943
More about the Flagler Gardens when I got back from overseas.
One of my friends had a Miami friend that flew lightplanes,
probably a Taylorcraft. We all thought it would be fun to go up. The friend's friend thought it
would be interesting to check out the Army Flying Training!
He let us do the flying from the beginning. I remember the
takeoff. We almost crashed because I looked at the airspeed indicator as we left the ground and it
said something like 35 mph and it scared hell out of me and momentarily I jammed the stick forward.
I realized immediately that it was OK and I flew normally after that. On landing, I remember having
trouble losing altitude. The planes we had been flying would drop like a stone if you wished but
this light plane wanted to stay up there, so I crabbed and slipped to lose altitude to get it down.
The pilot said the three of us flew in amazingly similar fashion.
We were issued some supplies and when we saw lip ice we knew we
were going to the Aleutians. When we got our orders we found out we were heading to Casablanca! As I
remember, I left in 12 August 1943 via chartered Eastern Airlines.
-----I've just been reading the story of mechanic from another group, telling about his trip back to the US, by air. Our trips were similar. They went from Georgetown British Guiana directly to Borinquen Field, Puerto Rico. So it is reasonable to assume we went directly to Georgetown.-------
On the first leg to Puertp Rico we thought we saw a submarine
and the pilot reported it. We never heard the end of the story.
A truck backed up to the door of the airplane and we stepped out
directly onto the truck. They were in the midst of their rainy season and as the truck drove away,
up to its axles in mud, it left no track behind!
We stayed overnight in Georgetown, actually about 40 miles south
in the jungle. I got bed 13 but remembering cabin 13 in Basic, I didn't worry. But I was feeling
quite strange, first day out of the country, out in the jungle, jungle noises, peculiar bird cries.
But I relaxed after hearing a jukebox belt out "Take the A Train to Harlem!"
We landed at Belem Brasil the next day for gas. The pilot told
us that one had to "piss downwind (Excuse me, Gretchen! More about this Red Cross girl when we get
to Italy!) to keep from getting gonorrhea in Belem!"
We took off and flew to Natal that afternoon. The last day and a
half we were flying over jungle. As we cruised along there was nothing but trees below. Occasionally
we would see a silver streak of a river but only when we were directly above it. It would not have
been nice to go down in this stuff. I'm not sure they would ever have been able to find us.
We spent the next day on the base at Natal. We bought the red
mosquito boots that everyone bought here. We got some shots, including the first of two plague shots
and were told to get the second one in Casablanca in ten days.
We left Natal on a military C-87, a converted B-24 and headed
toward Africa. Al Jolson was in the plane ahead of us.
We landed at Rufisque in French West Africa, the airfield about
20 kilometers from Dakar. We met Al Jolson again and he signed our "Short Snorters".
Before the war there was a group of people that had personally flown the Atlantic. They called
themselves the Short Snorters for whatever reason. They each had a dollar bill, autographed by all
the other members. If they went into a bar and were challenged by another member and they didn't
have it with them, they had to buy a round of drinks for everyone!
When the war came everybody adopted the idea (probably ruining
it for the "legitimate" members). We settled for being a passenger and we attached a bill from each
new place we went. Mine ultimately got to be about six feet long! There was a special dollar bill we
used with a gold seal instead of a blue one. It was called an "invasion dollar". It was done so that
if a bunch of them fell into the wrong hands, the government would not have to honor them!
We got permission to go into Dakar that evening and I have never
seen a dirtier place, in every sense. We went into a bar/nightclub and very scantily clad women
moved among the tables making obscene invitations. We did not indulge. We had already seen "the
movies" and wouldn't touch anything with a ten foot pole!
We did accept an invitation to a "show". Everything you've heard
of was there. One of the two girls approached one of my friends to draw him into the show. He drew
his fists back and his mustache bristled and the girl backed off. She did draw one of the local
Frenchmen into the show however, with a "Hugh Grant".
We got on the bus back to the base without incident. The bus
left from the "Pro Station" (prophylactic) and if anyone was drunk they were taken inside and given
the "treatment", and I'm told it was a painful thing.
We left Rufisque the next day on a C-47. We couldn't fly over
the Spanish Rio de Oro so we had to go out in the desert and go around. We had to land at a place
called Tindouf. As far as I could see there was nothing but a very coarse sand. The runway was
marked out with white painted rocks. The temperature was 135 deg. F. and the only buildings were
what appeared to be a broken down Foreign Legion post. We gassed up, took off and got up to where it
was reasonably cool. Temperature drops about 4 1/2 degrees per 1000 feet, called the adiabatic lapse
rate. So at 10,000 feet it was 50 deg cooler or about 85 deg F.
We landed in Marrakech. As I remember we spent the night there
but did not go to the Kasbah. We were told it could be dangerous to do so!.
The next morning we took off for the short flight to Casablanca.
How that pilot found the airfield I have no idea. There were NO navigational aids. We flew
reasonable straight and then suddenly we let down, did a rather steep turn to the left and broke out
of the clouds at the end of the runway. I don't think we were more than several hundred feet above
the ground. Amazing!