World War II - The Doolittle Raid
as told by B-25 Pilot No. 13 on the Hornet,
Lt. Colonel Edgar "Mac" McElroy
edited by
Major Arthur E. Woodgate
Editor, Group III Online Newsletter, Texas Wing, Civil Air Patrol
They did it all with old fashioned navigation. No GPS, no radar, just
dead reckoning. These were real men, real patriots, real airmen.
"My name is Edgar McElroy. My friends call me "Mac." I was born
and raised in Ennis, the youngest of five children of Harry and Jennie McElroy. Folks say I was the quiet one. We lived at 609 North Dallas Street
and attended the Presbyterian Church. My dad had an auto mechanic's
shop downtown close to the main fire station. My family was a hard
working bunch and I was expected to work at dad's garage after school and
on Saturdays, so I grew up in an atmosphere of machinery, oil and grease.
Occasionally I would hear a lone plane fly over and would run out in the
street and strain my eyes against the sun to watch it. Someday that
would be me up there! I really like cars and I was always busy on some
project. It wasn't long before I decided to build my my own Model-T
out of spare parts. I got an engine from over here a frame from over
there and wheels from some place else using only the good parts from old
cars. It wasn't very pretty but it was all mine. I enjoyed driving
on the dirt roads around town and the feeling of freedom and speed. That
car could really go fast. 40 miles per hour!
In high school I played football and tennis and was good enough
at football to receive an athletic scholarship from Trinity University in
Waxahachie. I have to admit that sometimes I daydreamed in class and
thought about flying my very own airplane and being up there in the clouds. That is when I even decided to take a correspondence course in aircraft
engines. Whenever I got the chance, I would take my girl on a date
up to Love Field in Dallas. We would watch the airplanes and listen
to those mighty piston engines roar. I just loved it and if she didn't - well that was just too bad.
After my schooling I operated a filling station with my brother then drove
a bus and later had a job as a machinist in Longview but I never lost my
love of airplanes and my dream of flying! With what was going on in
Europe and Asia, I figured that our country would be drawn into war someday
so in November 1940 I decided to join the Army Air Corps. This way
I could finally follow my dream. I reported for primary training in
California which was rigorous and frustrating at times. It was tough
going and many of the guys washed out! When I finally saw that I was
going to make it I wrote to my girl back in Longview, Texas - Agnes Gill
- and asked her to come out for my graduation and, oh yeah, also to marry
me. I graduated on July 11, 1941 now I was a really honest to goodness
Army Air Corps pilot. Two days later I married Aggie in Reno, Nevada. We were starting a new life together and we were very happy! I
received orders to report to Pendleton, Oregon and join the 17th Bomb Group. Neither of us had traveled much before and the drive north through
the Cascade Range of the Sierra Nevadas was interesting and
beautiful. My unit was the first to receive the new B-25 medium bomber. When I saw it for the first time I was in awe. It looked
so huge, sleek and powerful. The guys started calling it the "rocket
plane" and I could hardly wait to get my hands on it. I told Aggie
it was really something - reminded me of a big old scorpion just ready
to sting. Man, I could hardly wait! We were transferred to another
airfield in Washington State, where we spent a lot of time flying practice
missions and attacking imaginary targets.
There were other assignments in Mississippi and Georgia and we were on
our way back to California on December 7th when we got word of a Japanese
attack on Pearl Harbor. We listened with mixed emotions to the
announcements on the radio and the next day to the declaration of war. What the President said just rang over and over in my head - "With
confidence in our armed forces and with the unbounding determination of our
people, we will gain the inevitable triumph. So help us God." By
gosh, I felt as though he was talking straight to me. I didn't know
what would happen to us but we all knew that we would be going somewhere
now . The first weeks of the war we were back in Oregon flying
patrols at sea looking for Japanese submarines. We had to be up at
0330 hours to warm up the engines of our planes. There was 18 inches of snow
on the ground and it was so cold that our engine oil congealed overnight. We placed big tarps over the engines that reached down to the ground. Inside this tent we used plumbers blow torches to thaw out the engines. I figured my dad would be proud of me if he could see me with
all this machinery, oil and grease. After about an hour the engines
were warm enough to start. We flew patrols over the coasts of Oregon
and Washington from dawn until dusk.Once I thought I spotted a sub and started
my bomb run, even had my bomb doors open, but I pulled out of it when
I realized it was just a big whale. Lucky for me. I would never have heard
the end of that. Actually it was lucky for us that the Japanese didn't
attack the west coast, because we just didn't have a strong enough force
to beat them off. Our country was in a real fix now and overall things
looked pretty bleak to most folks. In early February we were ordered
to report to Columbus, South Carolina. Man, this Air Corps sure moves
a fellow around a lot . Little did I know what was coming next.
After we got settled in Columbus, my squadron commander called us together
and told us that an awfully hazardous mission was being planned and asked
for volunteers. Some of the guys did not step forward but I was
one of the ones that did.My co-pilot was shocked. He said "You can't volunteer
Mac! You're married and you and Aggie are expecting a baby soon .Don't do
it!" I told Jim that I got into the Air Force to do what I can and Aggie
understands how I feel . The war won't be easy for any of us. We volunteers
were transferred to Elling Field near Valparaiso, Florida in late February. There
ware about 140 of us and we were told that we were now part of the "Special
B-25 Project." We started training, but none of us knew what it was all about
- we were ordered not to talk about it not even to our wives. In early March
we were called in for a briefing and somebody said that the fellow who's
head of this thing is coming to talk to us and in walks Lieutenant Colonel
Jimmy Doolittle.
He was already a giant legend and there he stood right in front of us.
Colonel Doolittle explained that this mission would be extremely dangerous
and only volunteers could take part. He could not tell us where we were going
but he could say that some of us would not be coming back. There was silence;
you could have heard a pin drop. Then he said that any one of us could withdraw
now and no one would criticize us. No one backed out! From the outset, all
volunteers worked from the early morning hours until well after sunset. All
excess weight was stripped from the planes and extra gas tanks were added.
The lower gun turret and the heavy liaison radio were removed and then the
tail guns were taken out and more gas tanks were put aboard. We extended
the range of that plane from 1000 miles out to 2500 miles.Then I was assigned
my crew. Richard Knobloch was co-pilot, Clayton Campbell the navigator, Robert
Bourgeois the bombardier, Adam Williams flight engineer and gunner and me,
Mac McElroy, pilot. Over the coming days I came to respect them a lot
- a swell bunch of guys, regular All-American boys. We got a few ideas
from the training as to what type of mission we had signed on for. A Navy
pilot had joined our group to coach us on short takeoffs and shipboard
etiquette - short takeoff meant taking off with a light load first, then
a normal load and finally overloaded up to 3,000 lbs. The shortest possible
takeoff was obtained with flaps full down stabilizer set three-fourths, tail
heavy, full power against the brakes and releasing them simultaneously as
the engine revved up to max power We pulled back gradually on the stick and the airplane left the ground with the tail skid about one foot
from the runway. It was a very unnatural and scary way to get airborne! I
could hardly believe it myself, the first time as I took off with a fuel
gas load and dummy bombs within just 700 feet of runway in a near stall
condition. We were, for all practical purposes a slow flying gasoline bomb!
In addition to take off practice we refined our skills in day and night flights
at tree-top level, night flights and navigational flights over the Gulf of
Mexico without the use of a radio. Within a few days of returning to our
base in Florida we were abruptly told to pack our things. After just three
weeks of practice, we were on our way. This was it. It was time to go. It
was the middle of March 1942, and I was 30 years old. Our orders were to
fly to McClelland Air Base in Sacramento, California on our own, at the lowest
possible level. So here we went on our way west, scraping the tree tops at
160 miles per hour, and skimming along just 50 feet above plowed fields we
crossed North Texas buzzing farmhouses and many a barn along the way. Over
the Rocky Mountains and across the Mojave Desert dodging thunderstorms, enjoyed
the flight immensely and although tempted, I didn't do too much dare-devil
stuff. We didn't know it at the time, but it was good practice for what lay
ahead of us. It proved to be our last fling. Once we arrived in Sacramento
, the mechanics went over our plane with a fine-toothed comb. Of the twenty-two
plane that made it, only those whose pilots reported no mechanical problems
were allowed to go on. The others were shunted aside. After having our plane
serviced, we flew on to Alameda Naval Air Station in Oakland. As I came in
for final approach, we saw it! I excitedly called the rest of the crew to
take a look. There below us was a huge aircraft carrier. It was the USS Hornet,
and it looked so gigantic! Man, I had never even seen a carrier until this
moment. There were already two B-25s parked on the flight deck. I thought
about about how puny my plane would look on board this mighty ship.
As soon as we landed and taxied off the runway, a jeep pulled in front of
me with a big "Follow Me" sign on the back. We followed it straight up to
the wharf, alongside the towering Hornet. All five of us were looking up
and just in awe, scarcely believing the size of this thing. As we left the
plane, there was already a Navy work crew swarming around attaching cables
to the lifting rings on top of the wings and the fuselage. As we walked towards
our quarters, I looked back and saw them lifting my plane up into the air
and swing it over the ship's deck. It looked so small and lonely.
Later that afternoon, all crews met with Colonel Doolittle and he gave
last minute assignments. He told me to go to the Presidio and pick up two
hundred extra "C" rations. I saluted, turned, and left, not having any idea
where the Presidio was, and not exactly sure what a "C" ration was. I
commandeered a Navy staff car and told the driver to take me to the Presidio,
and he did. On the way over, I realized that I had no written signed orders
and that this might get a little sticky. So in I walked into the Army supply
depot and made my request, trying to look poised and confident. The supply
officer asked "What is your authorization for this request,sir?" I told him
that I could not give him one. "And what is the destination?" he asked. I
answered, "The aircraft carrier, Hornet, docked at Alameda." He said, "Can
you tell me who ordered the rations, sir?" And I replied with a smile, "No,
I cannot."
The supply officers huddled together, talking and glanced back over towards
me. Then he walked back over and assured me that the rations would be delivered
that afternoon. Guess they figured that something big was up. They were right.
The next morning we all boarded the ship. Trying to remember my naval etiquette,
I saluted the Officer of the Deck and said "Lt. McElroy, requesting permission
to come aboard." The officer returned the salute and said "Permission granted."
Then I turned aft and saluted the flag. I made it, without messing up. It
was April 2, and in full sunlight, we left San Francisco Bay . The whole
task force of ships, two cruisers, four destroyers, and a fleet oiler, moved
slowly with us under the Golden Gate Bridge. Thousands of people looked on.
Many stopped their cars on the bridge, and waved to us as we passed underneath.
I thought to myself, I hope there aren't any spies up there waving. Once
at sea, Doolittle called us together.
"Only a few of you know our destination, and you others have guessed about
various targets. Gentlemen, your target is Japan!" A sudden cheer exploded
among the men. "Specifically, Yokohama, Tokyo, Nagoya, Kobe, Nagasaki and
Osaka. The Navy task force will get us as close as possible and we'll launch
our planes. We will hit our targets and proceed to airfields in China." After
the cheering stopped, he asked again, if any of us desired to back out, no
questions asked. Not one did, not one. Then the ship's Captain then went
over the intercom to the whole ship's company. The loudspeaker blared, "The
destination is Tokyo!" A tremendous cheer broke out from everyone on board.
I could hear metal banging together and wild screams from down below decks.
It was quite a rush! I felt relieved actually. We finally knew where we were
going . I set up quarters with two Navy pilots, putting my cot between their
two bunks. They couldn't get out of bed without stepping on me. It was just
fairly cozy in there, yes it was. Those guys were part of the Torpedo Squadron
Eight and were just swell fellows. The rest of the guys bedded down in similar
fashion to me, some had to sleep on bedrolls in the Admiral's chart room.
As big as this ship was, there wasn't any extra room anywhere. Every square
foot had a purpose. A few days later we discovered where they had an ice
cream machine! There were sixteen B-25s tied down on the flight deck, and
I was flying number 13. All the carrier's fighter planes were stored away
helplessly in the hangar deck. They couldn't move until we were gone. Our
Army mechanics were all on board, as well as our munitions loaders and several
back up crews, in case any of us got sick or backed out. We settled into
a daily routine of checking our planes. The aircraft were grouped so closely
together on deck that it wouldn't take much for them to get damaged. Knowing
that my life depended on this plane, I kept a close eye on her.
Day after day, we met with the intelligence officer and studied our mission
plan. Our targets were assigned, and maps and objective folders were furnished
for study. We went over approach routes and our escape route towards China.
I never studied this hard back at Trinity. Every day at dawn and at dusk
the ship was called to general quarters and we practiced finding the quickest
way to our planes. If at any point along the way, we were discovered by the
enemy fleet, we were to launch our bombers immediately so the Hornet could
bring up its fighter planes. We would then be on our own, and try to make
it to the nearest land, either Hawaii or Midway Island. Dr. Thomas White,
a volunteer member of plane number 15, went over our medical records and
gave us inoculations for a whole bunch of diseases that hopefully I wouldn't
catch. He gave us training sessions in emergency first aid, and lectured
us at length about0 water purification and such. Tom, a medical doctor, had
learned how to be a gunner just so he could go on this mission. We put some
new tail guns in place of the ones that had been taken out to save weight.
Not exactly functional, they were two broom handles, painted black. The thinking
was they might help scare any Jap fighter planes. Maybe, maybe not. On Sunday,
April 14, we met up with Admiral Bull Halsey's task force just out of Hawaii
and joined into one big force. The carrier Enterprise was now with us, another
two heavy cruisers, four more destroyers and another oiler. We were designated
as Task Force 16. It was quite an impressive sight to see, and represented
the bulk of what was left of the U.S. Navy after the devastation of Pearl
Harbor. There were over 10,000 Navy personnel sailing into harm's way, just
to deliver us sixteen Army planes to the Japs, orders of the President. As
we steamed further west, tension was rising as we drew nearer and nearer
to Japan. Someone thought of arming us with some old .45 pistols that they
had on board. I went through that box of 1911 pistols, they were in such
bad condition that I took several of them apart, using the good parts from
several useless guns until I built a serviceable weapon.. Several of the
other pilots did the same. Admiring my "new" pistol, I held it up, and thought
about my old Model-T. Colonel Doolittle called us together on the flight
deck. We all gathered round, as well as many Navy personnel. He pulled out
some medals and told us how these friendship medals from the Japanese government
had been given to some of our Navy officers several years back. And now the
Secretary of the Navy had requested for us to return them. Doolittle wired
them to a bomb while we all posed for pictures. Something to cheer up the
folks back home! I began to pack my things for the flight, scheduled for
the 19th. I packed some extra clothes and a little brown bag that Aggie had
given me, inside were some toilet items and a few candy bars. No letters
or identity cards were allowed, only our dog-tags. I went down to the wardroom
to have some ice cream and settle up my mess bill. It only amounted to $5
a day and with my per diem of $6 per day, I came out a little ahead. By now,
my Navy pilot roommates were about ready to get rid of me, but I enjoyed
my time with them. They were all right. Later on, I learned that both of
them were killed at the Battle of Midway. They were good men. Yes, very good
men. Colonel Doolittle let each crew pick our own target. We chose the Yokosuka
Naval Base about twenty miles from Tokyo. We loaded 1450 rounds of ammo and
four 500-pound bombs. A little payback, direct from Ellis county, Texas!
We checked and re-checked our plane several times. Everything was now ready.
I felt relaxed, yet tensed up at the same time. Day after tomorrow, we will
launch when we are 400 miles out. I lay in my cot that night, and rehearsed
the mission over and over in my head. It was hard to sleep as I listened
to sounds of the ship. Early the next morning, I was enjoying a leisurely
breakfast, expecting another full day on board, and I noticed that the ship
was pitching and rolling quite a bit this morning, more than normal. I was
reading through the April 18th day plan of the Hornet, and there was a message
in it which said, "From the Hornet to the Army - Good luck, good hunting,
and God bless you." I still had a large lump in my throat from reading this,
when all of a sudden, the intercom blared, "General Quarters, General Quarters,
All hands man your battle stations! Army pilots, man your planes!!!" There
was instant reaction from everyone in the room and food trays went crashing
to the floor. I ran down to my room jumping0 through the hatches along the
way, grabbed my bag, and ran as fast as I could go to the flight deck. I
met with my crew at the plane, my heart was pounding. Someone said, "What's
going on?" The word was that the Enterprise had spotted an enemy trawler.
It had been sunk, but it had transmitted radio messages. We had been found
out! The weather was crummy, the seas were running heavy, and the ship was
pitching up and down like I had never seen before. Great waves were crashing
against the bow and washing over the front of the deck. This wasn't going
to be easy! Last minute instructions were given. We were reminded to avoid
non-military targets, especially the Emperor's Palace. Do not fly to Russia,
but fly as far west as possible, land on the water and launch our rubber
raft. This was going to be a one-way trip! We were still much too far out
and we all knew that our chances of making land were somewhere between slim
and none. Then at the last minute, each plane loaded an extra ten 5-gallon
gas cans to give us a fighting chance of reaching China. We all climbed aboard, started our engines and warmed them up, just feet away from the
plane in front of us and the plane behind us. Knobby, Campbell, Bourgeois
and me in the front, Williams, the gunner was in the back, separated from
us by a big rubber gas tank.
I called back to Williams on the intercom and told him to look sharp and
don't take a nap! He answered dryly, "Don't worry about me, Lieutenant. If
they jump us, I'll just use my little black broomsticks to keep the Japs
off our tail." The ship headed into the wind and picked up speed. There was
now a near gale force wind and water spray coming straight over the deck.
I looked down at my instruments as my engines revved up. My mind was
racing. I went over my mental checklist, and said a prayer? God please, help
us! Past the twelve planes in front of us, I strained to see the flight deck
officer as he leaned into to the wind and signaled with his arms for Colonel
Doolittle to come to full power. I looked over at Knobby and we looked each
other in the eye. He just nodded to me and we both understood. With the deck
heaving up and down, the deck officer had to time this just right. Then I
saw him wave Doolittle to go, and we watched breathlessly to see what happened.
When his plane pulled up above the deck, Knobby just let out with, "Yes!
Yes!" The second plane, piloted by Lt. Hoover, appeared to stall with its
nose up and began falling toward the waves. We groaned and called out, "Up!
Up! Pull it up!" Finally, he pulled out of it, staggering back up into the
air, much to our relief! One by one, the planes in front of us took off.
The deck pitched wildly, 60 feet or more, it looked like. One plane seemed
to drop down into the drink and disappeared for a moment, then pulled back
up into sight. There was sense of relief with each one that made it. We gunned
our engines and started to roll forward. Off to the right, I saw the men
on deck cheering and waving their covers! We continued inching forward, careful
to keep my left main wheel and my nose wheel on the white guidelines that
had been painted on the deck for us. Get off a little bit too far left and
we go off the edge of the deck. A little too far to the right and our wing-tip
will smack the island of the ship. With the best seat on the ship, we watched
Lt. Bower take off in plane number 12, and I taxied up to the starting line,
put on my the brakes and looked down to my left. My main wheel was right
on the line. Applied more power to the engines, and I turned my complete
attention to the deck officer on my left, who was circling his paddles. Now
my adrenaline was really pumping! We went to full power, and the noise and
vibration inside the plane went way up. He circled the paddles furiously
while watching forward for the pitch of the deck. Then he dropped them, and
I said, "Here We Go!" I released the brakes and we started rolling forward,
and as I looked down the flight-deck you could see straight down into the
angry churning water. As we slowly gained speed, the deck gradually began
to pitch back up. I pulled up and our plane slowly strained up and away from
the ship. There was a big cheer and whoops from the crew, but I just felt
relieved and muttered to myself, "Boy, that was short!" We made a wide circle
above our fleet to check our compass headings and get our bearings. I looked
down as we passed low over one of our cruisers and could see the men on deck
waving to us. I dropped down to low level, so low we could see the whitecap
waves breaking. It was just after 0900, there were broken clouds at 5,000
feet and visibility of about thirty miles due to haze or something. Up ahead
and barely in sight, I could see Captain Greening, our flight leader, and
Bower on his right wing. Flying at 170 mph, I was able to catch up to them
in about 30 minutes. We were to stay in this formation until reaching landfall,
and then break on our separate ways.
Now we settled in for the five hour flight. Tokyo, here we come! Williams
was in the back emptying the extra gas cans into the gas tank as fast as
we had burned off enough fuel. He then punched holes in the tins and pushed
then out the hatch against the wind. Some of the fellows ate sandwiches and
other goodies that the Navy had put aboard for us... I wasn't hungry. I held
onto the controls with a firm grip as we raced along westward just fifty
feet above the cold rolling ocean,as low as I dared to fly. Being so close
to the choppy waves gave you a true sense of speed. Occasionally our windshield
was even sprayed with a little saltwater. It was an exhilarating feeling,
and I felt as though the will and spirit of our whole country was pushing
us along. I didn't feel too scared, just anxious. There was a lot riding
on this thing, and on me. As we began to near land, we saw an occasional
ship here and there. None of them close enough to be threatening, but just
the same, we were feeling more edgy. Then at 1330 we sighted land, the Eastern
shore of Honshu. With Williams now on his guns in the top turret and Campbell
on the nose gun, we came ashore still flying low as possible, and were surprised
to see people on the ground waving to us as we flew in over the farmland.
It was beautiful countryside. Campbell, our navigator, said, "Mac, I think
we're going to be about sixty miles too far north. I'm not positive, but
pretty sure." I decided that he was absolutely right and turned left ninety
degrees, went back just offshore and followed the coast line south. When
I thought we had gone far enough, I climbed up to two thousand feet to find
out where we were. We started getting fire from anti-aircraft guns. Then
we spotted Tokyo Bay, turned west and put our nose down diving toward the
water. Once over the bay, I could see our target, Yokosuka Naval Base. Off
to the right there was already smoke visible over Tokyo.
Coming in low over the water, I increased speed to 200 mph and told everyone,
"Get Ready!" When we were close enough, I pulled up to 1300 feet and opened
the bomb doors. There were furious black bursts of anti-aircraft fire all
around us, but I flew straight on through them, spotting our target, the
torpedo works and the dry-docks. I saw a big ship in the dry-dock just as
we flew over it. Those flak bursts were really getting close and bouncing
us around, when I heard Bourgeois shouting, "Bombs Away!" I couldn't see
it, but Williams had a bird's eye view = from the back and he shouted jubilantly,
"We got an aircraft = carrier! The whole dock is burning!" I started turning
to the south and strained my neck to look back and at that moment saw a large
crane blow up and start falling over! Take that! There was loud yelling and
clapping each other on the back. We were all just ecstatic, and still alive!
But there wasn't much time to celebrate. We had to get out of here and fast!
When we were some thirty miles out to sea, we took one last look back at
our target, and could still see huge billows of black smoke. Up until now,
we had been flying for Uncle Sam, but now we were flying for ourselves. We
flew south over open ocean, parallel to the Japanese coast all afternoon.
We saw a large submarine apparently at rest, and then in another fifteen
miles, we spotted three large enemy cruisers headed for Japan. There were
no more bombs, so we just let them be and kept on going. By late afternoon,
Campbell calculated that it was time to turn and make for China.
Across the East China Sea, the weather out ahead of us looked bad and
overcast. Up until now we had not had time to think much about our gasoline
supply, but the math did not look good. We just didn't have enough fuel to
make it! Each man took turns cranking the little hand radio to see if we
could pick up the promised radio beacon. There was no signal. This is not
= good. The=20 weather turned bad and it was getting dark, so we climbed
= up. I was=20 now flying on instruments, through a dark misty rain. Just
= when it=20 really looked hopeless of reaching land, we suddenly picked
= up a=20 strong tailwind. It was an answer to a prayer. Maybe just = maybe,
we=20 can make it! In total darkness at 2100 hours, we figured = that we=20
must be crossing the coastline, so I began a slow, slow = climb to be=20
sure of not hitting any high ground or anything. I conserved = as much=20
fuel as I could, getting real low on gas now. The guys were = still=20 cranking
on the radio, but after five hours of hand cranking = with aching hands and
backs, there was utter silence. No = radio beacon! Then the red light started
blinking, indicating = twenty=20 minutes of fuel left. We started getting
ready to bail out. I turned the controls over to Knobby and crawled to the
back of the plane, past the now collapsed rubber gas tank. I dumped everything
out of my bag and repacked just what I really needed, my .45 pistol, ammunition,
flashlight, compass, medical kit, fishing tackle, chocolate bars, peanut
butter and crackers.
I told Williams to come forward with me so we could all be together for
this. There was no other choice. I had to get us as far west as possible,
and then we had to jump. At 2230 we were up to sixty-five hundred feet. We
were over land but still above the Japanese Army in China. We couldn't see
the stars, so Campbell couldn't get a good fix on our position. We were flying
on fumes now and I didn't want to run out of gas before we were ready to
go. Each man filled his canteen,20 put on his Mae West life jacket and parachute,
and filled his bag with rations, those "C" rations from the Presidio. I put
her on auto-pilot and we all gathered in the navigator's compartment around
the hatch in the floor. We checked each other's parachute harness. Everyone
was scared, without a doubt. None of us had ever done this before! I said,
"Williams first, Bourgeois second, Campbell third, Knobloch fourth, and I'll
follow you guys! Go fast, two seconds apart! Then count three seconds off
and pull your rip-cord!" = We kicked open the hatch and gathered around the
hole looking = down into=20 the blackness. It did not look very inviting!
Then I looked up at Williams and gave the order, "JUMP!!!" Within seconds
they were all gone. I turned and reached back for the auto-pilot, but could
not reach it, so I pulled the throttles back, then turned and jumped. Counting
quickly, thousand one, thousand two, thousand three, I pulled my rip-cord
and jerked back up with a terrific shock. At first I thought that I was hung
on the plane, but after a few agonizing seconds that seemed like hours, realized
that I was free and drifting down. Being in the total dark, I was disoriented
at first but figured my feet must be pointed toward the ground. I looked
down through the black mist to see what was coming up. I was in a thick mist
or fog, and the silence was so eerie after nearly thirteen hours inside that
noisy plane. I could only hear the whoosh, whoosh sound of the wind blowing
through my shroud lines, and then I heard a loud crash and explosion. My
plane! Looking for my flashlight, I groped through my bag with my right hand,
finally pulled it out and shined it down toward the ground, which I still
could not see. Finally I picked up a glimmer of water and thought I was landing
in a lake. We're too far inland for this to be ocean. I hope! I relaxed my
legs a little, thinking I was about to splash into water and would have to
swim out, and then bang. I jolted suddenly and crashed over onto my side.
Lying there in just a few inches of water, I raised my head and put my hands
down into thick mud. It was a rice paddy! There was a burning pain, as if
someone had stuck a knife in my stomach. I must have torn a muscle or broke
something. I laid there dazed for a few minutes, and after a while struggled
up to my feet. I dug a hole and buried my parachute in the mud. Then started
trying to walk, holding my stomach, but every direction I moved the water
got deeper. Then,I saw some lights off in the distance. I fished around for
my flashlight and signaled one time. Sensing something wrong, I got out my
compass and to my horror saw that those lights were off to my=20 west. That
must be a Jap patrol! How dumb could I be! Knobby had to be back to my east,
so I sat still and quiet and did not move. It was a cold dark lonely night.
At 0100 hours I saw a single light off to the east. I flashed my light in
that direction, one time. It had to be Knobby! I waited a while, and then
called out softly,=20 "Knobby?" And a voice replied "Mac, is that you?".
Thank goodness, what a relief! Separated by a wide stream, we sat on opposite
banks of the water communicating in low voices. After daybreak Knobby found
a small rowboat and came across to get me. We started walking east toward
the rest of the crew and away from that Japanese patrol. Knobby had cut his
hip when he went through the hatch, but it wasn't too awful bad. We walked
together toward a20 small village and several Chinese came out to meet us,
they seemed friendly enough. I said, "Luchu hoo megwa fugi! Luchu hoo megwa
fugi!" meaning, "I am an American! I am an American!" Later that morning
we found the others. Williams had wrenched his knee when he landed in a tree,
but he was limping along just fine. There were hugs all around. I have never
been so happy to see four guys in all my life!
Well, the five of us eventually made it out of China with the help of
the local Chinese people and the Catholic missions along the way. They were
all very good to us, and later they were made to pay terribly for it, so
we found out afterwards. For a couple of weeks we traveled across country.
Strafed a couple of times by enemy planes, we kept on moving, by foot, by
pony, by car, by train, and by airplane. But we finally made it to India.
I did not make it home for the baby's birth. I stayed on there flying a Gooney
bird next several months. I flew supplies over the Himalaya Mountains, or
as we called it, over "The Hump" into China. When B-25s finally arrived in
India, I flew combat missions over Burma , and then later in the war, flew
a B-29 out of the Marianna Islands to bomb Japan again and again. After the
war, I remained in the Air Force until 1962, when I retired from the service
as a Lt. Colonel, and then came back to Texas, my beautiful Texas. First
moving to Abilene and then we settled in Lubbock, where Aggie taught school
at MacKenzie Junior High. I worked at the S & R Auto Supply, once again
in an atmosphere of machinery, oil and grease. I lived a good life and raised
two wonderful sons that I am very proud of. I feel blessed in many ways. We
have a great country, better than most folks know. It is worth fighting
for.
Some people call me a hero, but I have never thought of myself that way,
no. But I did serve in the company of heroes. What we did, will never leave
me. It will always be there in my fondest memories. I will always think of
the fine and brave men that I was privileged to serve with. Remember us,
for we were soldiers once and young. With the loss of all 16 aircraft, Doolittle
believed that the raid had been a failure, and that he would be court-martialed
upon returning to the states. Quite to the contrary, the raid proved to be
a tremendous boost to American morale, which had plunged following the Pearl
Harbor attack. It also caused serious doubts in the minds of Japanese war
planners. They in turn recalled many seasoned fighter plane units back to
defend the home islands, which resulted in Japan's weakened air capabilities
at the upcoming Battle of Midway and other South Pacific campaigns.
Edgar "Mac" Mc Elroy, Lt. Col., U.S.A.F (Ret.) passed
away at his residence in Lubbock, Texas early on the morning
of Friday, April 4, 2003.
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