better keep scarin’ ’em to draw fire from them who could shoot.”
About this time we were receiving the radio broadcasts of Nippon progress, spreading like a cancer beyond control. I had received one lone letter from home before the action started, then there was no more mail for anyone.
The Philippines, Wake Island, Hong Kong, as well asother places, were on the broadcasts. Important, yes, but too far away to be realistic.
Close by, but definitely. The Malay Peninsula and Singapore, which we had just left, were what concerned us most. The Brewster fighters had been wiped out at Singapore. The famous Spitfire was no competition for the Japanese Zero. Even the Spitfire had been shot full of holes in trying to turn in dogfights with the Japanese fighters. What a grim picture.
The English at Rangoon radioed for Chennault’s AVG, ruffians or not. There was much bickering going on. But the windup was that Chennault, through kindheartedness or pressure, sent one of his squadrons, the Third Pursuit, to help reinforce the RAF’s Brewsters at Rangoon.
The Third Pursuit, Hell’s Angels, was commanded by a former Air Corps lieutenant, Orvid Olsen. And I’ll always remember Olsen best for his remark that came later, upon his return from Rangoon. The remark had been prompted by Madame Chiang at one of the banquets we had in the royal couple’s honor in Kunming.
One of the things that Madame Chiang, a brilliant speaker, had elaborated upon was the Chinese expression of “losing face.” Later, when the pilots were referring to some action, they would twist this around and say: “I figured it was about time to get to hell away, because I’d much prefer losing face to losing ass.”
Anyway, Olsen had just flown into Kunming from Rangoon by himself, and had told about spotting twenty-odd Zeros near Lashio, Burma, on his way back. We had inquired: “Did you fire at any? Did the Zeros fire at you? What happened to you? You didn’t get hit.”
Olsen had thrown up his hands and said: “Pa—lease, wait one minute, fellows, let me explain. Madame Chiang’s immortal words seemed to run though my mind about the time I saw them. Remember? She said: ‘One AVG member has proven he is equal to ten Japanese.’ Well, I didn’t want to make a liar out of the Madame. But if there had been
less
than eleven—I would have felt
free
to attack them.”
Olsen’s Hell’s Angels were in Rangoon on Christmas Day, 1941. The Japanese didn’t observe Christmas as a holiday. Or maybe they just wanted to be nasty. In any event, the Japs chose this day to plaster Rangoon.
Again we got radio reports, reports involving our grouppersonally this time. Things had begun to happen fast. The self-sufficient high command at Rangoon had changed its tune completely now, for it was calling Chennault for more aid, even before the last of the planes had crashed on that first attack on Christmas Day.
Then Olsen’s report was radioed: “Two AVG pilots killed. Rangoon bombed. Able to stave off concentrated attack. Only two Brewsters left. Most of RAF destroyed on ground. Disregarded RAF orders and took all airworthy P-40s off on first alert. This is only reason AVG was spared …”
If my memory serves me correctly, the Hell’s Angels knocked down twenty-six Japanese planes out of some one hundred twenty that had come over. Duke Hedman, a quiet, unassuming young man, was the first American in World War II to become an ace (five planes downed).
Report after report came through until, in the first week in January, Chennault decided he had better augment Hell’s Angels with his Second Pursuit, Jack Newkirk’s Panda Bears. How I envied the Panda Bears as they too left to join the battle at Rangoon, or take on where the Hell’s Angels had left off.
Newkirk’s Panda Bears did exactly that, as most of the Japanese bombers were not able to get any closer than the outskirts of Rangoon at that time.
In the meantime our Adam and Evers might just as well
About this time we were receiving the radio broadcasts of Nippon progress, spreading like a cancer beyond control. I had received one lone letter from home before the action started, then there was no more mail for anyone.
The Philippines, Wake Island, Hong Kong, as well asother places, were on the broadcasts. Important, yes, but too far away to be realistic.
Close by, but definitely. The Malay Peninsula and Singapore, which we had just left, were what concerned us most. The Brewster fighters had been wiped out at Singapore. The famous Spitfire was no competition for the Japanese Zero. Even the Spitfire had been shot full of holes in trying to turn in dogfights with the Japanese fighters. What a grim picture.
The English at Rangoon radioed for Chennault’s AVG, ruffians or not. There was much bickering going on. But the windup was that Chennault, through kindheartedness or pressure, sent one of his squadrons, the Third Pursuit, to help reinforce the RAF’s Brewsters at Rangoon.
The Third Pursuit, Hell’s Angels, was commanded by a former Air Corps lieutenant, Orvid Olsen. And I’ll always remember Olsen best for his remark that came later, upon his return from Rangoon. The remark had been prompted by Madame Chiang at one of the banquets we had in the royal couple’s honor in Kunming.
One of the things that Madame Chiang, a brilliant speaker, had elaborated upon was the Chinese expression of “losing face.” Later, when the pilots were referring to some action, they would twist this around and say: “I figured it was about time to get to hell away, because I’d much prefer losing face to losing ass.”
Anyway, Olsen had just flown into Kunming from Rangoon by himself, and had told about spotting twenty-odd Zeros near Lashio, Burma, on his way back. We had inquired: “Did you fire at any? Did the Zeros fire at you? What happened to you? You didn’t get hit.”
Olsen had thrown up his hands and said: “Pa—lease, wait one minute, fellows, let me explain. Madame Chiang’s immortal words seemed to run though my mind about the time I saw them. Remember? She said: ‘One AVG member has proven he is equal to ten Japanese.’ Well, I didn’t want to make a liar out of the Madame. But if there had been
less
than eleven—I would have felt
free
to attack them.”
Olsen’s Hell’s Angels were in Rangoon on Christmas Day, 1941. The Japanese didn’t observe Christmas as a holiday. Or maybe they just wanted to be nasty. In any event, the Japs chose this day to plaster Rangoon.
Again we got radio reports, reports involving our grouppersonally this time. Things had begun to happen fast. The self-sufficient high command at Rangoon had changed its tune completely now, for it was calling Chennault for more aid, even before the last of the planes had crashed on that first attack on Christmas Day.
Then Olsen’s report was radioed: “Two AVG pilots killed. Rangoon bombed. Able to stave off concentrated attack. Only two Brewsters left. Most of RAF destroyed on ground. Disregarded RAF orders and took all airworthy P-40s off on first alert. This is only reason AVG was spared …”
If my memory serves me correctly, the Hell’s Angels knocked down twenty-six Japanese planes out of some one hundred twenty that had come over. Duke Hedman, a quiet, unassuming young man, was the first American in World War II to become an ace (five planes downed).
Report after report came through until, in the first week in January, Chennault decided he had better augment Hell’s Angels with his Second Pursuit, Jack Newkirk’s Panda Bears. How I envied the Panda Bears as they too left to join the battle at Rangoon, or take on where the Hell’s Angels had left off.
Newkirk’s Panda Bears did exactly that, as most of the Japanese bombers were not able to get any closer than the outskirts of Rangoon at that time.
In the meantime our Adam and Evers might just as well
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