Whirlwind - Barrett Tillman [46]
In an aerial gunfight lasting nearly an hour, five bombers were chopped down while the Superforts’ claims were pegged at sixty, nearly twice the previous record.
Amid the flak and fighters one pilot swore, “If I ever get out of this one I’m through flying—and at that moment I really meant it.”
Nine B-29s were lost, including two destroyed in collisions and perhaps a third. Taking the brunt of the defenses was the 497th Group, with one squadron led by Lieutenant Colonel Bob Morgan of Memphis Belle fame. In the formation was Lieutenant Lloyd Avery’s Irish Lassie, which was selected for destruction by a flock of Tojos. Lassie’s gunners threw out a .50 caliber barrage at the misidentified Zeros, claiming three for starters, but the Japanese pilots were suicidally motivated. Elements of the JAAF’s 244th Regiment bored in, and one fighter survived the bomber’s gunfire to crash the left wing behind the outboard engine, puncturing a fuel cell. Moments later Captain Teruhiko Kobayashi dived in from astern, trading gunfire with tail gunner Sergeant Charles Mulligan. Grimly determined, Kobayashi drove his Nakajima into Lassie’s tail, clipping the left stabilizer. The impact knocked him unconscious but he recovered to bail out, confident he had destroyed his prey.
Lassie’s perforated airframe quickly lost pressurization, exposing the crew to subzero temperatures. Mulligan was trapped in the mangled tail, suffering severe frostbite before his friends could extract him. They stripped off his frozen clothes and piled on anything available to protect him as the pilots dived to denser, warmer air.
Irish Lassie shook off the effects of two collisions and repeated gunfire hits to return to Saipan. Barely controllable, she smashed down hard and collapsed on the runway, a write-off, but her crew prevailed. Chuck Mulligan lost both his frozen hands and radar operator Walter Klimczak sustained serious injuries to his pelvis, back, an arm and leg. Nevertheless, both men survived thanks to the Superfortress’s tough airframe.
That battle had been won in the B-29 factory in Omaha.
Three other 497th crews were less fortunate. Shady Lady fell to suicide pilots and Haley’s Comet was shot down by a navy night fighter, which likely succumbed to the defenses in turn. Were Wolf blew in two, possibly when gunfire detonated part of its bomb load. Seven men bailed out but only three survived, apparently because four parachutes malfunctioned.
Fighters hacked down the 499th’s Rover Boys Express, flown by Lieutenant Edward “Snuffy” Smith. A twin-engine Nick executed a devastating pass just before bombs away, knocking out three engines, killing a gunner and wounding two more fliers. The crew abandoned ship amid other fighter attacks but navigator Raymond Halloran stopped to gulp part of a sandwich, uncertain when he might eat again. Knowing that Japanese pilots often killed parachutists, he fell for about 23,000 feet before pulling the ripcord. Dangling beneath his canopy at about 3,500 feet, “Hap” Halloran was thinking about his landing when he heard aircraft engines. Looking up, he saw three Japanese planes—fixed-gear trainers—closing in. With nothing to lose, he waved. Two of the planes broke off but the other circled protectively, the pilot tossing a salute.
Fifty-five years later Halloran shook hands with his guardian angel, Corporal Hideichi Kaiho, who had declined to use his machine gun on the helpless American. Kaiho explained that his commanding officer had insisted that his men abide by the traditional Bushido code of chivalry rather than the militarist version that regarded enemies with murderous contempt.
Halloran was extremely fortunate; one Rover Boys crewman was murdered by civilians and another disappeared into prison camp, never to emerge. Halloran found himself displayed in Tokyo’s Ueno Park Zoo. He was kept naked in a tiger cage, vacant since the government had killed or starved the animals to death to prevent their escape in a bombing.
Typically,