My Carrier War (11 page)

Wonder if Jean has seen a paper about the carrier battle? Sure she has. The paper usually gets to the apartment by late afternoon. What am I going to say to her about us? Our staying together? What are the chances of staying here in the ferry command? Kind of slim. I’m trained as a dive-bomber pilot. Fleet is going to need pilots. Don’t volunteer for an assignment to a carrier squadron. I can’t do that to Jean, but if orders come...well, I go—that’s it! How will I react to combat? Being shot at? Dropping bombs on people? Try to stay here in New York. Hell, don’t know—anyway, the Navy will decide.

I left the bus and walked the two blocks to our apartment.

Damn that carrier battle! It might change Jean’s and my life. Just got our apartment. First place of our own. Three rooms, kitchen, living room, bath and bedroom. Just two blocks from the beach. Wonder if Jean is still in her swimming suit? She loves the beach. Guess we’re still on our honeymoon; she’s usually just taking off her swim suit as I get home. She’s so beautiful. I love her so. Just wait. All I can do is wait. That’s all, just wait to see what the Navy will do.

I walked up the path to our apartment and climbed the stairs, wondering how Jean would greet me. I opened the door and called her name.

“I’m in the living room. Did you hear the news out at the base?”

I joined her, and before I could answer her question, she handed me a newspaper. I saw the headlines.

U.S. FLEET IN SOUTH PACIFIC BATTLE 5-DAY BATTLE IN CORAL SEA HAS HEAVY TOLL FOR BOTH SIDES Allied Nations Report Sinking or Critical Damage to At Least 13 Jap Warcraft While Tokyo Makes Similar Claims of Allied Losses

I looked at Jean and saw the worried look in her eyes; her lips were pressed tightly together. She looked so grim and, in a way, so sad. I reached for her, enclosing her tense body in my arms. I remember reassuring her that I was there with her—that I’d be needed for a long time in the ferry command, telling her that the fleet would be needing aircraft and that was what I was trained to do.

Slowly, she pulled away from my caress and her question came very softly. “What if you get orders to sea duty? Won’t they need pilots too?”

We talked a long time that evening as I tried to assure my Jean that everything would be fine, that our marriage would survive no matter what effect the war or the Navy might have on our lives. I promised her, too, that I would not volunteer for an assignment to a carrier squadron.

The next morning over breakfast, Jean seemed relieved as she described a shopping trip she had planned with Joan, her friend from the hotel. They were going into Manhattan to shop for kitchen cookware. I kissed Jean good-bye and left for the base.

That ferry flight to San Diego will be coming up soon. I’d better hope nothing else hits the news while I’m gone. Jean needs my reassurance that everything will be OK. After all, she’s going to be alone...away from her folks for the first time and I know she worries about me and the war. She was really upset about the Battle in the Coral Sea reports. I know what Jean wants...stay here. But the idea of combat is exciting, flying off a carrier, hitting the enemy. Forget it. Just do my job here. Enjoy New York with Jean.

The next few days were routine. I delivered an OS-2U to Norfolk, had another navigational training flight and then on May 10, I saw that I was on the flight schedule to deliver an F4F to San Diego. It would be my first long flight. When I arrived home that day, there was more news about the Coral Sea Battle. I decided to wait to tell Jean about my upcoming flight to San Diego until later. 

We sat the dinner table, side by side, looking at a newspaper map where the battle was fought. There were also news stories announcing the loss of the aircraft carrier, USS
Lexington
, and an interview with a commander of a Navy torpedo plane squadron whose unit was involved in the battle.
LEXINGTON
WAS SUNK BY BLAST FROM GASOLINE
“The United States American pride in its Navy and in the airmen soared to a new high yesterday as the first full story of the Battle of the Coral Sea fought early in May, revealed that seventeen Japanese ships were sunk or damaged at a cost of only three American vessels—the aircraft carrier
Lexington
, the destroyer Sims and the naval tanker Neosho....”

TORPEDO PLANES IN THE BIG BATTLE OF THE CORAL SEA
As Told By the Commander of an American Torpedo Plane Squadron

“
SOMEWHERE IN THE
Southwestern Pacific (AP)—At 8 a.m., our scout planes loom out of an overcast sky and come aboard. The word quickly spreads through the ship that they have sighted an enemy aircraft carrier and that we are to attack. The date is May 7—five months after Pearl Harbor...”

Area of the Pacific naval battles in the Coral Sea.

At one point, Jean stopped reading the article about torpedo planes and asked if I was flying that kind of aircraft. I told her no, I was only flying the F4F fighter. I did tell her that the Grumman aircraft plant was building a new torpedo plane, the TBF-1, and I’d soon get checked out so I could deliver them to the fleet. She finished reading the article on the torpedo planes and turned to me. I could see her tears. “Honey, I’m so scared! Please don’t let them send you to a carrier squadron. Please!” All I could do was hold her, telling her that I loved her, and promising that I’d never volunteer for carrier duty. Then I had to tell her about my next flight on May 12 to deliver Area of Pacific naval battles in the Coral Sea an F4F to San Diego. Jean cried herself to sleep as I held her trembling body in my arms.

May of 1942 was a very active flying period for me. I left New York on the twelfth in an F4F, bureau number 02030—the 2,030th F4F built by Grumman. I was delayed for two days in Atlanta because of bad weather, and finally arrived in San Diego on May 17. I returned to New York in style after that trip. No government aircraft was available, so I was issued a travel voucher: Los Angeles to New York onboard a Super Connie sleeper plane! The Connie was a four-engine propeller aircraft. After dinner on board, berths were made up. I slept in a berth, which was quite comfortable, and was awakened in time for breakfast! I remember thinking, “Not a bad life for a Navy ensign.”

I had three days off after my ferry trip, and Jean and I had a wonderful time in Manhattan. The Navy was pretty good about paying us our per-diem soon after a trip. As a result, we had extra money for fun. We again stayed at the Pennsylvania Hotel, had dinner at Jack Dempsey’s restaurant, saw Olsen and Johnson in the Broadway show “Hell’s A-Poppin,” and danced to the Glenn Miller Band with Helen O’Connell and Bob Eberly. A big weekend.

After those three days, I felt that Jean had passed a milestone in our relationship. Our lovemaking was exciting, tender, and fulfilling for both of us. She seemed to have reached an understanding about our future and the war. I think she knew that the Navy and the war would control our lives for the foreseeable future, but the present was ours to enjoy to the fullest in our love for each other.

I left on May 24, again delivering an F4F. This time to the Naval Air Station, Alameda, California, arriving on May 28. It was a quick trip, just four days, with great flying weather. I expected to be back with Jean in just a couple of days. But there was a dispatch waiting for me at the operations office at Alameda, when I reported my arrival with the F4F. I read the dispatch as I was driven out to the flight line.

ENSIGN NORMAN BERG 112307 USNR HEREBY ORDERED TO DELIVER AIRCRAFT BREWSTER BUFFALO SERIAL NUMBER 01516 TO N.A.S. SAN DIEGO

What the hell is a Brewster Buffalo? Never seen one before. Wow! A single cockpit, low-wing fighter! Hot damn! This baby is just back from the fleet. Better sit a while in the cockpit. Got to figure how to start the damn thing. No sign of a pilot handbook. Cockpit looks normal. Kind of dirty, controls are standard...throttle, flaps, gear handle, prop control, instruments. Better get a mechanic over to show me how to start this bird.

A Brewster F2A Buffalo.

I called to a sailor who was standing by the plane, asking him to climb up on the wing and point out the ignition switch and starter controls to me. I started the aircraft, taxied out and requested clearance from the control tower for a familiarization flight. I received my clearance, checked my engine instruments and rolled down the runway.

Gear up, flaps up, reduce take off power, now, easy climb out over the bay. Boy, Frisco is sure pretty today! Take it on up to 6,000 feet. Sure turns nice and smooth. Not a very good rate of climb. The F4F does better. OK, level off. Let’s see where this baby stalls out. Wings level. Ease back on the power. Control stick back; get the nose a little higher. There, don’t let it spin. Air speed about 60 when it wants to quit flying. OK. Let’s go down and shoot a couple of touch-and-go landings.

I shot a couple of landings, parked the plane, went to operations and got my flight clearance. Twenty minutes later, I was airborne for San Diego. My log book shows a flight of one hour and 20 minutes to San Diego. In San Diego, I caught a military transport flight going to New York, and was back home enjoying New York and Jean on June 2.

Thinking back today on that experience, I realize how really simple flying was in those days. All single-engine aircraft were very similar. Some flew faster than others; some were a little heavier; some had different stalling speeds. The problems arose when the pilot found himself in dangerous weather. Clouds, rain, fog, thunder storms—pilots of single-engine aircraft just didn’t have the type of flight instruments needed to operate safely in adverse weather conditions. As long as the weather was CAVU (ceiling and visibility unlimited), flying single-engine aircraft was a walk in the park.
The Battle of Midway
On June 5, 1942 I headed out again for San Diego with an F4F. I landed at the Atlanta airport that evening and stayed overnight in a hotel in downtown Atlanta. That night at the hotel, I heard the news of another carrier battle. This one at Midway. The news was incomplete, but I decided I’d better call Jean at our apartment.

She sounded calm and yes, she’d heard the news and yes, she would save the papers for me and, yes she loved me. We hung up—long distance calls were expensive. After a two-day delay due to inclement weather in the Atlanta area, I headed again for San Diego. I was back in New York via a military transport plane on June 12. That night, Jean and I read over the news stories in a Brooklyn paper Jean had saved. The stories were dated June 5, 1942, and headlines read: JAP FLEET IN MIDWAY REGION NIMITZ REPORTS “TOO EARLY TO CLAIM JAPANESE DISASTER” Enemy Damage Very Heavy, With Crippling Blows Inflicted on Several Ships — Tokyo Claims Control of Two Oceans

JAP ARMADA NEARLY WIPED OUT BY U.S. FLEET NIMITZ REPORTS ENEMY FLED SO FAST IT DID NOT SEEK TO RESCUE DROWNING

I recall talking with Jean, explaining why we had no news about our losses. We didn’t want to give the Japanese any information. Then she showed me an article about Ensign George Gay, a pilot with Torpedo Squadron Eight.

U.S. PILOT TELLS OF BURNING OF JAPANESE SHIPS
Eye Witness Was in Rubber Boat for Hours After His Plane Crashed:
The first eyewitness account of the Battle of Midway came Monday from a naval aviator, who, floating in the sea, saw a line of burning Japanese ships pass by.

God! I know about Ensign Gay, his story. Heard it out in San Diego at the officers’ club. The whole fleet knew the story. Gay was the only survivor of the 13 planes that attacked an enemy carrier. They had all been shot down. All killed except Gay. They were flying the old TBD, a plane with a top speed of less than 200 mph. It had to be a slaughter. They had no fighter planes with them for protection. Jean is going to ask me again not to go to a carrier squadron.

She put the paper down and asked me if I had flown the Grumman torpedo plane yet—she had seen them flying along the beach on their way to Floyd Bennett Field. I recall my surprise that she would ask such a question after reading about Ensign Gay. I told her that I would have my first flight that next week.