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PEOPLE, MACHINES, NATURE AND MYSELF
The Early Days as a Mitchell Pilot in New Guinea
Roy Lee Grover joined the 38th
Bombardment Group as a pilot from its first deployment to Australia. In doing
so he delivered Tokyo
Sleeper across the Pacific, and in the 1990s wrote a series of articles,
this one included, in response to a request from the Utah Historical Society.
He left the USAF
in 1964 and then worked for Aerospace companies, after having obtained a master’s
degree in Business. These overall reflections of his combat tour are philosophic,
and convey an immediacy which adds to the human interest aspects of his tour.
In June 1941 Warren Young, a very good friend
of mine, and I offered our services to the U.S Navy for pilot training. We
both had the required two years of college and had attained the required age
of 20. We each had a pilots license. The navy would accept Warren but not
me, so we went to the army. The army would accept me but they would not take
Warren. So Warren went to the navy and I awaited a call for the army. On November
1, 1941 in the city of Salt Lake, the call came and I enlisted in the U.S.
army air forces as an aviation cadet. On the 9th of November I was flying
Stearman trainers in California. The evening of 7 December 1941 found each
cadet of my primary flying class scheduled to spend two hours of his sleep
time walking guard around six airplanes armed with a ball bat. Two weeks later
we were given rifles for the guard duty bit without any training in their
use. Those of us who admitted to having experience with the guns were assigned
to guard duty on Christmas and new years eve when all the other cadets went
into the town of Visalia. Full time military guards were assigned in the second
week of January to the relief of the cadets. My basic flying class at Bakersfield,
California, was an unusual class in that seven cadets and one instructor (my
instructor) were killed during the eight weeks of flying. Six cadets encountered
weather conditions that they were not sufficiently trained to handle and died
when they crashed on a solo cross country flight. My class graduated from
flying school on 21 May 1942 and we all became 2nd Lieutenants and pilots
in the United States Army Air Force, just a little less than seven months
from our enlistment date. I and a
large number of my class were assigned to a B‑25 unit in Meridian, Mississippi.
There were few flyable aircraft available. We lived in motels and hotels in
the. City. Our base was the municipal, airport.
In July 1942 the unit moved
to McDill air field in Tampa, Florida to set up a B‑26 crew training
school. The accommodation was good but before any aircraft arrived, a number
of the flight personnel, including me, were assigned to an emergency "x"
mission and departed for Sacramento, California to pick up B-25 aircraft.
We flew the airplanes to Hamilton field near san Francisco, California. We
were to fly the Pacific Ocean in a twin engined airplane and not many people
had flown over the ocean at that time. We were like college kids before a
football came. Our flight was planned to take 13 hours to Honolulu, Hawaii
and we had thirteen and one half hours of fuel. All of our group, the 38th
Bombardment Group made it to Hawaii: although several aircraft landed at Hilo
which is 100 miles closer to San Francisco than Honolulu. One airplane ran
out of fuel just before safely touching down on the runway. My flight time
was thirteen hours and ten minutes. We opened our sealed orders a couple of
hours after takeoff and found that we were to report to General MacArthur's
headquarters in Australia. The authorities in Hawaii were vigilant in rushing
crews on their way. I was sick and had a fever when we were strongly urged
to leave Hawaii on 11 August 1942. Medical attention was by squadron, and
we were considered transients, so we were encouraged to seek medical. attention
on Christmas Island. Our next stop. I had a fever of 102 degrees when we reached
Christmas island. In five days I was well and we were ready to go on our way.
We had been told that there were only three trees on Canton Island, our next
stop; therefore I gathered 50 small coconut palms and loaded them on the airplane
to make a "Grover's Grove" on Canton Island. It was not to be. An
oil pressure gage was inoperative and the Base Commander refused to allow
us to proceed. I unloaded the trees and we waited for a replacement gage from
Hawaii. On August 20 we were told to get off the ground right away, which
we did. Our gage was waiting for us on Canton Island. There was no time to
get any trees to everyone's relief but mine. After leaving Christmas Island,
we stopped at Canton Island, Fiji, New Caledonia before arriving in Australia.
Upon landing at Brisbane Australia we were rushed to a bomb shelter because
there was an air raid alert in effect. We later learned that the alert was
for our aircraft because the officials had not been notified of our coming
and we had not been properly identified. The group lost 3 airplanes with 2
others damaged and delayed for repair, but only one man was killed in our
movement to Australia. My bomb group was one of the first groups to
be stationed in new guinea. We were issued World War One helmets and guns
and our tent pegs were stamped "1918". A few months later we exchanged
our World War I helmets for World War II types. We were on Australian army
rations. The U.S. had agreed to furnish equipment to the Australians in exchange
for feeding U.S. troops. It was bully beef, rice, dried onions and sometimes
bread or hardtack. The bully beef was boiled for lunch, baked for dinner and
fried for breakfast. After a few months our rations improved. We had an egg
a week and a cold drink once a day. A few months more and we were on American
rations. Malaria was prevalent and about half of the group got the disease.
I was not one of them.
In
New Guinea I tried to fly as many "test flights", those required
after an engine change or major engine maintenance, as I could arrange. Such
flights gave me the opportunity to fly up the coast of New Guinea and "window
peek" at nature. It was beautiful when not involved in hostility. I recognized
what I saw as a thing of beauty but very harsh to the touch. To me it was
a time of great learning about people, machines, nature and myself. It was
a time of great stress. We believed that our condition was "fly until
you die". There was no indication of a rotation program. In September
1943 some replacements arrived and the crews with the most missions were sent
home. Upon returning to the United States I found myself to be a little hostile.
There was no change in the way of life and no hardships. Everyone was sleeping
on sheets and that was my idea of luxury. It required about two weeks to adjust
and lose the hostility that one develops upon returning home to find that
life is real and not the fantasy that one had dreamed. My first week statesides
duty found me in training to dig a slit trench and live in the field because
I did not have a training form that would show that I had taken the training.
How ridiculous war time can be. In January 1946 I was stationed in Europe
flying transport aircraft. I was able to see the destruction and misery that
was brought upon Europe. I saw the war. I made the transition from being a
member of the armed forces in time of war to "warrior", i.e. the
change from considering the war to be a United States war to "my war".
I have also made the transition from warrior to citizen. It is a challenging
change from a philosophy of determined survival to one of peace. I was not
injured in the war and I believe I was protected. My memories are vivid remembrances
of people, events and friends, some of whom did not return.
Roy Lee Grover has published a book with his memoirs which you can order from www.authorhouse.com/bookstore
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