In God We Trust
C-47 & P2V-2 Neptune Collision, January 05, 1952 (Margate, England) (COMING SOON)
DC-4, British Columbia, Canada, January 19, 1952 (Sandspit, B.C.)
Flight 324, was a flight from Tokyo, Japan, to McChord AFB, via Shemya and Anchorage. It departed Elmendorf AFB at 21:11 on January 19, 1952 for the IFR flight to McChord AFB. The flight climbed to the 10,000-foot assigned altitude and at 22:13, shortly after passing Middleton Island, requested permission to descend to 8,000 feet. ARTC cleared the flight to descend and the new cruising altitude was reached at 22:22. The trip was uneventful until opposite Sitka, Alaska, when the pilot reported, at 00:03, that no. 1 propeller had been feathered. The prop had been feathered due to a "broken" oil cooler and the pilot decided to divert to Sandspit. The flight was cleared to that point and proceeded without further incident on three engines. The aircraft touched down at a point about one-third down the runway. After a short roll, power was applied at about the mid-point of the strip and the aircraft took off, barely clearing a low fence and driftwood which was approximately two feet high at the end of the runway. The aircraft, at near stalling speed during the attempted climb-out, settled into the water, bounced, and came to rest 26 degrees to the left and approximately 4,500 feet from the end of the runway. All or nearly all of the passengers evacuated the aircraft, with no known serious injuries. However, air and water temperatures were near freezing; drowning and exposure accounted for 36 fatalities. (There were 40 passengers and three crew members. Of the 43, only seven survived.) To add information to this page or request corrections, contact us.
Cheadle, Jane - stewardess (Seattle, Washington)
Born in 1927 in Montana, she was the daughter of Edwin K. Cheadle (1895-1980) and Anna Ruth Moore Cheadle (1899-1995). Jane is buried in Great Falls, Montana.
Kuhn, Kenneth - co-pilot (Seattle, Washington)
Pfaffinger, John J. - pilot (Kent, Washington)
His wife was four months pregnant with their second child when the crash occurred. Daughter Linda Pfaffinger was born five months later. Linda had a six-month old brother.
Elness, Loren Dale
Age 27, he was returning home because of his 2 1/2 year old son's serious medical condition. A second son was born shortly after he left for Japan, and he never had an opportunity to see that son. Loren was the son of Emmett (1901-1931) and Anne A. Hall Elness (1904-2003). He had sisters Ihlene (Luvern) Stockel of Dubuque, Iowa, and Ruth Ann Lord, Carpentersville, Illinois. His stepfather was Ralph Noe (1903-1982). Anne Elness married Ralph in 1937. The family was from the Dubuque, Iowa area.
Raymond, Sgt. Russell A.
Sergeant Raymond was on his way home to attend his mother's funeral.
Shankman, 1Lt. Stanley Paul
The following narrative was found on the West Point website:
"Stanley Paul Shankman, born in Brooklyn, NY, loved his hometown and all the great activities available to a growing boy in the metropolitan area. Stan and his brother, Herb, enjoyed a secure and happy childhood, adored by loving parents and encouraged in all their endeavors.
During his youth, Stan developed a love for baseball, with the Brooklyn Dodgers as his favorite team. He once concluded that a particular Dodger pitcher was the best in baseball, although, on the day the pitcher was suddenly traded, Stan commented, "He never could pitch, anyway." Stan’s loyalty was to the team. Stan was an excellent student. He took academics in stride and graduated from Brooklyns Midwood High School in 1943 at age 16. As a high school student during WWII, Stan followed the war closely and deeply admired our armed forces. Those global national challenges throughout Stan’s formative years influenced his decision to join the military
Following graduation from high school, Stan attended New York University for two years. During that time, his parents enjoyed the company of friends who had a son, Edwin Marks ’49, at West Point. Those proud parents and Edwin had a positive impact upon Stan, and it cemented his desire to attend West Point.
In June 1945 Stan joined the Coast Guard with the intent of pursuing his ambition to become a cadet. Four months later, he transferred to the Army and quickly earned admission to the U.S. Military Academy Preparatory School at Amherst, MA. He attended the school from November 1945 until March 1946 and worked hard during this time to obtain an appointment from the 11th Congressional District of New York. In March 1946, Stan took his physical and written entrance examinations for West Point. His successful completion of those challenging tests was a source of great joy for him. Stan reported to the Academy on 1 Jul 1946, a proud member of the Class of ’50.
Stan adapted well to the rigor and discipline of Academy life and never seemed unduly stressed. He was particularly good at languages and studied German. He often studied it out loud, thereby exposing his unwilling roommates to the language. Years later, one of his roommates reported that, while stationed in Europe, he could easily regale German listeners with German poems without having the slightest idea what he was saying.
Stan was an excellent handball player. He preferred to keep this fact to himself, allowing his opponents to find out about his skills on the courts. He was a gracious winner and an accomplished post-game kibitzer. He was a fun competitor. His classmates also remember Stan as fastidious with his personal hygiene. After shaving at the hallway sink each morning, he always applied a generous amount of Yardley Shave Lotion, nearly asphyxiating fellow cadets in the vicinity. He was kidded about it, but it never deterred him.
Stan was a considerate and pleasant roommate. He enjoyed presenting a gruff exterior, but those who knew him found him to be soft of heart and delightfully witty. During Plebe year, when a roommate unexpectedly entered the hospital, Stan visited him within the hour and frequently thereafter. He brought the usual supplies and reading material. Occasionally, he would smuggle something delectable from the mess hall—a plebe triumph of no small significance.
Upon graduation on 6 June 1950, Stan was commissioned in the Signal Corps. Twelve days after graduation, Stan married his sweetheart, Naomi Mirkin, in a beautiful ceremony at the Ritz Carlton Hotel in New York City. Stan’s and Naomi’s first assignment was to the 51st Signal Operations Battalion at Ft. Meade, MD, and the couple enjoyed their brief time together there. In August 1950, the battalion departed for Korea, via Japan, to support I Corp, joining them at Taegu inside the Pusan Perimeter in September 1950. Stan was assigned as the communications liaison officer with Korean, British, Canadian, and U.S. combat units during some of the fiercest fighting of the war. He performed his duties with courage and was dedicated to his men.
One of his classmates recalled an incident involving Stan in Korea. One of Stan’s soldiers was running around with a carbine, threatening others. Stan just walked up to the soldier and calmly started talking to him. The agitated soldier finally handed the carbine to him. The classmate reported, "It was unbelievably brave of Stan."
In January 1952, Stan’s father suffered a heart attack. While returning to the States from Korea on emergency leave, his DC-4 aircraft touched down at Sandspit Airport, British Columbia. The pilot saw the field was too short, and immediately took off for a new approach. He apparently circled too soon and the aircraft plunged into the frigid surf 400 yards off the end of the runway. Tragically, Stan perished in that crash.
Stan was with us for a very brief time. We remember him as a good man, gentle and compassionate. We also remember the "indomitable spirit" mentioned in his ’50 Howitzer narrative. The military career he earnestly sought lasted only 18 months. He and his lovely wife, Naomi, were able to spend just two months together before being separated by the winds of war.
1LT Stanley Paul Shankman served honorably in a country he had never known, to protect the freedom of strangers he had never met. He did his duty. Yet the length of his life is not as important as its quality. Stan’s star burned briefly but brilliantly, and it lit the lives of all those who were fortunate enough to know him and to love him. The memory of him survives. Well done, Stan. Be thou at peace."
AF 44-85746A was an SB-17G, a search-and-rescue variant of the venerable B-17 flying fortress. The official story is that it was returning from a search mission to locate survivors from a Korean airlift plane (DC-4 mentioned above) that had gone down near Sandspit, B.C. In extreme turbulence and heavy blizzard conditions, the crew experienced sporadic failure of navigation and radio equipment. The plane was tossed up and down 800 feet by the severe winter weather.
Suddenly, the plane's port wing clipped trees near the top of a ridge. The plane was slammed to the ground, ripping out the lower cockpit area and tearing off wing control surfaces. The plane bounced, crashing back to earth on its belly, knocking off engines and stripping away the external life boat slung underneath.
AF '746 then slid like a toboggan down a 2,000 foot steep slope, spewing man and machine in her wake as fire erupted through the cockpit. Of the 8 brave souls who were aboard, 3 lost their lives on the mountain that night.
There is some speculation that the plane was actually returning from a mission to spy on the Russians. That would explain why the US Govt. was quickly on the scene to salvage key parts of the wreckage. [Source: www.waymarking.com]
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Excerpt from the Port Townsend Jefferson County Leader, January 24, 1952
A big news event took place on the Olympic Peninsula last weekend when a B-17 plane crashed on Tyler Peak and tobogganed down the mountain slope, taking the lives of three of the eight crewmen. The five survivors miraculously escaped serious injury. The worst injury to any of the five survivors was a dislocated shoulder. Tyler Peak, shown on maps of the area as 6,359 feet high, is located about midway between the Dungeness and Greywolf river valleys approximately six miles north of Marmot Pass, a landmark well known to hikers of this vicinity. The crash was in Clallam County, about three miles north of the Clallam-Jefferson county line. The plane and its eight-man crew was returning to McChord Field from a search mission of its own, looking for survivors of the Korea air lift plane which crashed off the Queen Charlotte Islands, with 36 killed. The pilot of the B-17 said the crash occurred five minutes after they passed over Dungeness. It was estimated the big plane slid down the mountain a thousand feet, leaving a trail of debris as it bounced and tumbled, finally coming to rest in a box valley. The five survivors spent Saturday night under improvised cover and were taken out Sunday by helicopter, which landed them on the front lawn of Olympic Memorial Hospital, Port Angeles. Paramedics who were flown to the scene of the crash conducted a search of the area and on Monday found the bodies of the three me who were killed. The bodies were packed to a clearing from where they were taken by helicopter to Port Angeles.
[Source: www.aerovintage.com]
Ball, Alan - engineer (fatality)
DeRoth, John - radio operator (fatality) - DeRoth's body was returned to his native Stavangen, Norway.
Farmer, Edgar - left scanner (survivor)
Hartke, Charles - right scanner (survivor)
Hybki, Casimir "Ky" Jr. - pilot (survivor) - He wasn't flying the plane at the time of crash
Lankiewicz, Stanley Jr. - navigator (fatality) - He was thrown clear of the accident but died of injuries. Born February 27, 1919, he was from Wisconsin. He is buried in Golden Gate National Cemetery, San Bruno, California.
Scargall, Carl - acting flight engineer) (survivor)
Sentner, Kenneth - co-pilot (survivor)
Greater detail about the crash of this search and rescue plane can be seen on researcher Mike Morrow's website, The Last Flight of 746.
B-29 Crash, Kadena, Okinawa, January 30, 1952 (Okinawa)
A B-29 crash landed at Kadena Air Force Base on Okinawa on January 30, 1952, following an in-flight fire in #1 engine. One crew member was killed in the crash and the aircraft was totally destroyed by fire. The aircraft in question, serial number 44-61925, was assigned to the 370th Bomber Squadron, 307th Bombardment Wing. 1st Lieutenant John R. Badzik was the IP for the flight.
Badzik, John Rudolph (IP) - seated in right seat; received simple fracture to left ankle; partial blindness, left eye, and fracture to his right fifth finger. Badzik was discharged from the Air Force in 1946 and was recalled in April 1951.
Carey, John T. (CFC) - Lumbar sacro sprain and contusions. Joined the present crew in August 1951 and had flown with them until the date of the accident. Arrived Okinawa 24 January 1952.
Cayson, Wayman Adolph (N) - navigator; moderately severe back sprain. Cayson received navigator rating in 1942 and served with Troop Carrier Wing until released from active duty in 1945. He was recalled in April 1951 and underwent refresher training before being assigned to the 307th Bombardment Group two weeks prior to the accident. He was seated in the navigator's seat with his seat belt fastened when the accident happened. "With the sudden deceleration, his upper back probably was thrown against navigator's table. Also the sudden thrust probably pulled muscles in back."
Easter, Joseph Warren Jr. (RG) - contusions and abrasions. Injuries sustained when airman struck gun sight on impact. Safety belt in locked position and prevented more serious injury. Airman joined 307th Bomb Sq, 20 January 1952 and was assigned to this B-29 crew 27 January 1952. Airman had 3 missions in 4 days preceding crash.
Foster, Harold Kenneth (IVO) - flew six combat and two training missions in January 1952. Born in 1917, Harold died in 1991. He was from Kansas City, Missouri.
Goudice, Daniel Edward (B) - bombardier; received contusions and abrasions to his left lower leg. Safety belt not fastened. Goudice was married in 1948 and had two children.
Hamm, Joseph Grinnell Jr. - engineer; contusion to right and left legs and mild lumbar sacral sprain. cause of injuries unknown unless sustained getting out and off aircraft. Safety belt was locked and tight, preventing airman being thrown into instrument panel. Safety cushion in place prevented head injury. Airman joined the 307th Bomb Gp. 20 January 1952. He was assigned as FE to a B-29 crew.
Leone, A2C Anthony Jr. - radio operator; 3rd degree burns, entire body. Anthony Leone was the only fatality in the plane crash. Leone was born November 30, 1930. He is buried in Ft. Rosecrans National Cemetery, San Diego, CA, plot 305.
McCowen, William Irving (Pilot) - positioned in aisle; received lacerations and contusions to his head and legs. McCowen finished pilot training in March 1951. Total flying time: 600 hours, of which 200 were 4-engine. He was thrown out of the plane through the nose.
Rose, Joe B. (LG) - wound lacerations to head. Has been with present crew since July 1951 and has completed training. Arrived on Okinawa 20 January 1952.
Withun, Robert R. (TG) - lacerations and multiple abrasions to head and contusions on both arms. Injuries sustained when airman riding in compression tube was thrown into radar compartment. Airman was not in crash position and didn't have a safety belt. Airman joined 307th Bomb Group, 24 January 1952. Airman was assigned to this B-29 crew and was flying his 2nd mission when this crash occurred.
Wolfert, Frederick Edwin (VC) - received contusion to right eye and abrasions to right leg and right arm. Injuries sustained from falling radar equipment. Officer was not in his normal crash position and as a result was completely pinned in by the turret, necessitating assistance in making a successful escape. Wolfert was recalled to active duty on 14 April 1951 from Air Force Reserves. Was assigned to 307th Bomber Group on 20 January 1952.
Wynn, Donald Dewey (Aircraft Commander) - Seated in left seat; received nose fracture. Wynn was discharged from the Air Force in 1945 and recalled in June 1951.
[KWE Note: Obtained from the Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Alabama.]
While 50 minutes out of Kadena on a night bombing sortie to Korea, this B-29 suddenly developed fire in No. 1 engine, which was extinguished after the engine was feathered. The bombardier’s attempt to salvo both bomb bays emptied only the forward bay, creating an unbalanced condition until he was able to let the rear bombs out in train. The A/C, on the left seat, said this caused him to lose control of his plane for some moments and to lose 2500 of his 3500 feet of altitude above the sea; and also caused him additional acute anxiety. He made shallow turns onto the final approach due to flutter in the tail when using more than slight rudder. He says he deliberately remained high on the glide path (100-200 feet by GCA) because of his feathered No. 1 engine, until about 3 miles from end of runway, when (he says) the IP told him to reduce power to get on glide path. The IP says, however, that he merely mentioned the height above the glide path, according to GCA, but did not tell him to cut power. The A/C apparently overcorrected; too much power was lost, and the B-29 sank to 50-60 feet below glide path (still according to GCA). He says the IP then told him to add power and get on the glide path. This he did, but the extra engine pushed the plane slightly to the left; about a wing span to left of edge of runway at 200 yards from runway. At this point the IP shouted, “I’ve got it” and took the controls from the A/C who acceded. The A/C says he feels confident that if he had retained the controls he would have made a normal landing on this 8500 foot runway, especially since the wind was favorable. However, the IP says he feels the A/C could not have made a landing because he was too low and too far to the left. The IP then overcorrected to the right and passed the runway. This last correction was also exaggerated to the left and he passed to left of runway, whereupon he called for full power, high rpm and gearup. He denies, but the A/C, pilot and flight engineer say he also called for flaps up. At any rate, he did get full throttle, highest rpm, gear up and half his flaps up for what appeared to the others as an attempted go-around, but which he claims was an attempted controlled crash landing off the side of the runway. Just before they struck the pilot read 110 mph speed. At the last second the A/C overpowered a full right aileron the IP was making. Luckily the plane crashed belly down. It was badly damaged, the tail breaking off, and caught fire immediately. All but the radio operator, who apparently was killed on impact by falling debris, somehow escaped in the darkness. No one else was seriously injured.
This crew’s officers, like practically all of them in the 307th Wing, were either recent recallees (within a year) or recently out of training. The IP is also a recent recallee (within a year). This was the IP’s first trip as such. Furthermore, he had only once sat on the right seat of a B-29, the position he occupied during this crash. The IP says he feels he was not unduly alarmed by the information that GCA had given him that they were 200 feet above the glide path; however, the A/C feels that the IP’s decision to cut power (which, overcorrected, set them below the glide path) was forced by the information the IP had received from GCA. The A/C says he does not question the IP’s right to take the controls away from him any time the IP wishes, but that in this case it was an unfortunate choice inasmuch as he believes it was going to turn into a normal 3 engine landing. The pilot and bombardier, who followed all these procedures closely, agree with him.
Due to the altitude of the plane (belly down, gear up, wings level) 12 out of the 13 crew members were able to escape, none of them with injuries serious enough to place them on the critically ill list. The radio operator was apparently killed on impact, while strapped in his seat, by flying debris. It is possible that he may have survived if he had been in his crash station in the tunnel, but the A/C did not anticipate a crash, believing he could have made a normal 3 engine landing. The plane caught fire immediately and was totally destroyed."
Examination of the engine after the accident disclosed the following condition:
Recommendations: None
Report signed by William Sebasky, Field Maintenance Officer.
Description of Difficulty: Shortly after takeoff #1 engine on aircraft #44-61925A caught fire. Engine was feathered and fire extinguished. Bombs were salvoed and aircraft returned to base for three engine landing. Aircraft crashed and completely burned on landing. Investigation revealed #11 and #13 cylinders articulating rods broken and #10-11-12 and 13 cylinder heads were blown off.
*Report signed by Donald I. Yous, Major, USAF, Maintenance Control Officer.
At 1851 Item, 30 January 1952, B-29 SN 44-61925 departed Kadena Air Base on a combat mission, operating on an authorized Tactical clearance under a coded call sign. Approximately 15 minutes after take-off a fire occurred in number 1 engine. The propeller was feathered and fire extinguished by use of the CO2 system. The aircraft returned to Kadena, homing in on Mike Fox homer, at which time Kadena GCA picked up the aircraft and proceeded to bring it in to the field.
The GCA approach deviated from a normal approach inasmuch as the aircraft was operating on 3 engines, and was holding turns into the dead engine to maximum 1/2 needle width turns. After turning onto the final approach and intercepting the glide path, the Aircraft Commander evidently elected to hold high on the glide path as somewhat of a safety margin. GCA operators state the aircraft was holding approximately 200 feet high until about 2 1/2 miles from touchdown point. At this point a power adjustment was made and the aircraft dropped below the glide path, reaching 70 feet low within the 1 mile range. Power was applied which caused the aircraft to veer to the left at which time the Instructor Pilot, riding in right seat, took over control of the aircraft. Corrective action was taken, however, apparently the aircraft was over-controlled and was allowed to cross back over the runway putting the aircraft then to the right of the runway. Airspeed at this point was approximately 110 mph and the IP called for gear up, flaps 25 degrees, and power was applied to at least 40" Hg. A turn to the left was started, causing the aircraft to recross the runway to the left side. Heading of the aircraft at this time was approximately 020 degrees in a nose high attitude, altitude approximately 25 feet above the runway. First contact with the ground was with the tail skid about 4200 feet from approach end of runway. 63 feet from the tail skid mark were tire parks of all four main tires, distance between the outer tire marks measuring 32 1/2 feet. The direction of the tire skid marks in relation to the initial point of contact by the tail skid indicate that the aircraft was in a level attitude and direction of travel was straight ahead rather than to either side. There was no indication in this area of either wing tip making contact with the ground. The aircraft proceeded straight ahead, going between two small knolls, each of which was marred by the propellers on numbers 3, 3 and 4 engines. A short distance past the knolls there were propeller marks of number 3 engine in the coral surface. These marks were quite deep, and one tip was broken from the prop at this point. It is believed that the lower forward turret was separated from the fuselage while the aircraft was passing between the small knolls, being thrown to a position near the indicated gun emplacement. The anti-aircraft gun emplacement is on a small hill approximately 20 feet high and the aircraft then careened off the northwest edge of the hill and did not come in contact with the ground until 600 feet further on. Upon contact with the ground the last time, the fuselage broke, and the wings and forward portion of the fuselage turned right approximately 90 degrees. The rear part of the fuselage was parallel to the wings after coming to rest. Fire in the vicinity of number 3 or 4 engine immediately enveloped the entire wreckage and totally destroyed all components.
Material failure of number 1 engine is definitely a contributing factor in this accident. Fire following the crash did considerable damage to the engine however investigation has revealed probable failure of articulating rod. There were four cylinder heads missing, either melted by the fire or blown off by heat expansion. The eight valves from the four cylinder heads were recovered and there was no evidence of valve failure. Remaining cylinder heads and valves show no evidence of failure. One cylinder showed evidence of pulling loose at the base, and it is believed that possibly when the internal failure occurred, the cylinder head of this cylinder was cracked, allowing fuel and oil to come in contact with the exhaust and creating the fire.
The right and left flap screws indicate that flaps were set at 25 degrees. The exposed threads on forward portion of the flap screw numbered 62, and test on similar aircraft indicated 25 degree flaps down with the same number of threads exposed.
It is estimated that upon initial contact with the ground by the main wheels, the landing gear was approximately 50 percent in the retracted position. Both right and left landing gear retracting screw had been broken at the base with 54 threads exposed. This is further substantiated by the fact that no marks of the nacelle doors were located either side of the tire marks at point of contact.
Immediately after the accident the GCA unit was inspected by a competent technician and no discrepancy in any unit was noted. The operators were taken to the Base Dispensary and given complete medical checks. None of the operators were found to be suffering from any physical defect.
Neither weather or GCA are considered to be a cause factor in this accident.
At the time of the crash, it is estimated that the aircraft had a gross weight of 114,851 pounds. The power-off stalling speed at this weight is between 105 and 110 mph with full flaps extended, and with 25 degree flaps down the stalling speed is between 115 and 121 mph.
Official sunset for 30 January 1952 was 1610 Item.
Signed: Robert N. Snook
Captain, USAF
ACFT Acc Inves Off
Headquarters, 6332nd Air Base Wing
APO 239 Unit 1
c/o Postmaster
San Francisco, California
7 February 1952
Proceedings of Aircraft Accident Investigation Board appointed per paragraph 1, Special Order 30, Headquarters, 6332nd Air Base Wing, APO 239, Unit 1, dated 5 February 1952.
The Board met pursuant to the call of the President, at 0900 hours, 7 February 1952, with the following members present:
President - Lt. Col. Walter A. Williams, HQ, 6332nd ABWg
Medical Member - Lt. Col. John A. Booth, 6332nd Med Gp
Member - Major Richard W. Mallon, 307th Bomb Wg
Member - Major James M. Graves, 19th Bomb Gp
Maint Member - Capt. William K. Sebasky, 6332nd M&S Gp
Acft Acc Inv Off - Capt. Robert N. Snook, Hq 6332nd ABWg
Capt. Snook called the first witness in for questioning by the Board. After administering the oath to the witness, he then advised him of his rights under Article 31, Manual for Courts Martials United States. Witness assured Capt. Snook he was familiar with Article 31. Witness then gave his name (2nd Lt. William I. McCowan) to the recorder.
Lt. Col. Williams: Lt. McCowen, before we start I should like to say the purpose of this Board is to try to determine the true facts surrounding this case and any statement you make in this investigation will not be used against you in any manner. We are a fact-finding Board, our sole purpose being to elicit all the pertinent facts in this case, and we would therefore like you to give us information as you saw it. First of all, would you give us your position in the aircraft at the time the fire broke out?
A: I was just changing positions with the IP.
Q: Was that the right seat or the left?
A: The right seat. I don't believe the IP had gotten in his seat (aisle seat) when he hollered that No. 1 should be feathered. I pulled the throttle back on No. 1 and I don't know the rpm.
Q: What action did the IP take?
A: He opened the nose wheel hatch and pushed the feathering button. Then the Aircraft Commander told me to feather it again and I did.
Q: It went into a feathering and unfeathering cycle and you again feathered it?
A: Yes, we got the fire out and we had a little trouble salvoing the bombs. It certainly threw us off balance and we lost quite a bit of altitude.
Q: Who was actually at the pilot's controls at that time?
A: The A/C.
Q: The A/C was flying the airplane? Did he have anything to do with the feathering operation, or changing it?
A: He was strictly flying the airplane. The IP did the feathering operations.
Q: Can you give us any explanation of the loss of altitude at that time?
A: I think the balance was off-center. All the weight was in the rear of the aircraft. That's about the only explanation I can think of.
Q: Were you spiraling into the dead engine?
A: I believe we were.
Q: Did you change power settings on the other three engines?
A: Yes, when the fire broke out.
Q: Was turbo super charging setting changed at this time?
A: No, I don't believe so.
Q: Approximately what setting did it take to maintain cruising position?
A: On the turbo? Oh, roughly about 5. It depends on the aircraft a lot too.
Q: After the loss of altitude and you got rid of your bomb load, what power settings did it take to climb and maintain your altitude?
A: I don't know, Sir.
Q: Do you remember the altitude when you came back to Mike Fox homer?
A: I thought it was around 1500 feet.
Q: At what time did you leave the right seat? Was that before you climbed to cruise altitude or after?
A: Immediately after the A/C had the plane under control I moved back to the aisle seat and the IP moved to the right seat.
Q: And during the GCA let down you were in the center aisle position?
A: Yes.
Q: Do you recall any complaints, or would you have any complaints, on the GCA procedure let down?
A: I was on the inter-phone but it looked like a normal approach.
Q: How were the operators?
A: I didn't hear the operators. I was on the inter-phone.
Q: Could you give us the altitude you became VFR on your final approach?
A: Actually we were never in doubt where we were. It was just obscured for a moment and then the runway was in sight. We were below 1000 feet. Right around or below.
Q: Do you recall whether it was broken or scattered?
A: Fairly scattered.
Q: Could you see the runway from the Mike Fox homer?
A: I don't remember that, Sir.
Q: What is the normal procedure with one engine out on a GCA approach?
A: Down at Randolph we were taught the normal approach. It's normal landing as far as we are concerned.
Q: Do you recall what power setting they had on your approach on Nos. 2, 3, and 4 engines?
A: I couldn't tell the exact manifold pressure. I remember 1 and 4 balanced out and the A/C asked the IP to roll out the rudder. They were balanced on 1 and 4 and I don't know what the power was on 2 and 3.
Q: When the first accident started with the fire you lost over 2000 feet of altitude. Were you aware of that altitude?
A: No.
Q: Did it seem serious?
A: It sure did.
Q: Did it alarm you?
A: No, but it scared me.
Q: Did you think the plane was out of control?
A: No.
Q: Did it alarm the A/C?
A: No, not alarming. Just scary.
Q: When you came in on final approach, did you think the aircraft too high?
A: No.
Q: But sometime short of the field the plane did lose altitude?
A: I believe the IP instructed the A/C to reduce power.
Q: Why do you suppose the IP told the A/C to reduce power?
A: I don't know, Sir.
Q: When you were fairly short of the runway the IP took it over. Do you think the A/C himself could have landed the plane?
A: No sweat, I would say he had it made.
Q: You feel certain that he would not have cracked the plane up then. Do you think he could have corrected it himself?
A: Yes, Sir.
Q: Then you think he could have controlled the plane?
A: Yes, Sir.
Q: Do you think the IP had something to do with the accident?
A: Well, you can't blame that on one person.
Q: Do you think the A/C was approaching short of the runway?
A: No.
Q: Do you think when power was reduced on the glide path the IP should have instructed the A/C to reduce the power?
A: That's a matter of opinion. I can't see two men flying the final. One man was doing the thinking and one man was flying.
Q: The IP saw something and he did tell the A/C something. What did he tell him?
A: I don't know, Sir.
Q: Do you think that reduction of power was ill-advised?
A: I do. When you are flying final approach it isn't any time to be messing around.
Q: Do you think the IP should have taken over the controls just short of the runway?
A: No, I don't.
Q: When you were coming in on final, and after starting to intercept the glide path then you changed over from high on the glide path to low. Did you get the sensation of the plane making a violent change, or seem less gently then?
A: In my opinion it made no abrupt change until the IP took over the plane.
Q: Do you remember any orders the IP gave when the airplane became erratic?
A: I don't believe he gave any orders until he called for flaps, gear, and manifold pressure.
Q: Did he ask for flaps up or to 25 degrees?
A: No.
Q: What was his order on flaps?
A: When he went off the right of the runway he called for flaps up. I didn't hear the A/C at the time but he told me not to bring them over 25 degrees.
Q: Did you actually move them up?
A: Yes, I was watching the airspeed and it was about 110 when we stalled out.
Q: When he called for power did it sound as if additional power was added?
A: I don't recall. It was pretty close but I don't recall too much about sounds and things.
Q: When the IP took over did he keep the controls until the crash?
A: I understand the A/C overpowered him on aileron.
Q: do you think the IP was making a go around?
A: I don't know any other way to explain his actions.
Q: What is your knowledge of SOPs on go around for flaps?
A: Get the gear up and get the flaps up to 25 degrees.
Q: When your gear and flaps were down and before you crashed, what did you do?
A: I did bring the flaps up.
Q: You mentioned in your statement you looked out the A/C's window at the fire in number 1 engine. Was it black, blue, or white smoke coming through the flaps?
A: It was a very bright flame, almost white, and was coming all around the cowl flaps.
Q: More white than any other color?
A: Just bright.
Q: Do you remember any instructions you have received since you've been in B-29's about 3-engine go arounds either at school or in your training in the states, or since you left the states, any reference to 3-engine go arounds or go arounds in general?
A: Mostly I wouldn't ever attempt a 3-engine go around, especially with flaps down.
Q: Do they practice 3-engine go arounds at Randolph?
A: Yes. But we wouldn't bring the flaps down below 25 degrees.
Q: What altitude do they give you a go-around?
A: About 300 feet.
Q: What is your opinion of 3-engine go arounds at that point?
A: Well, as long as conditions are right, no sweat.
Q: Do they tell you to hold high altitude down glide path or hold normal glide path?
A: Just regular GCA approach.
Capt. Snook then called the second witness, Capt. Donald D. Wynn. The oath was administered and the witness was asked if he was aware of his rights under Article 31, Manual for Courts Martial United States. The witness replied, "Yes."
Capt. Snook: Would you please give your name to the recorder?
Capt. Wynn: Capt. Donald D. Wynn.
Lt. Col. Williams: Before we start, I should like to state this is a fact finding Board, the purpose of which is to try to determine the true facts in this case and any statement you make in this investigation will not be used against you. We have a few questions we would like to ask you:
Q: To start off, would you give your position in the aircraft?
A: I am the Aircraft Commander, Sir.
Q: What side of the airplane were you sitting at the time of the crash?
A: I was flying left seat.
Q: Relate to us your actions and reactions from the time the no. 1 engine caught on fire and when you got back to the cruising altitude after the engine was feathered?
A: The scanner reported flame from No. 1 engine. I gazed out and it was blazing. Previously we had a backfire of some sort. At that time Lt. Badzik attempted to feather the engine. I was flying instrument conditions. The engine went through the feather cycle, clear through, and unfeathered itself. I don't know why. I was flying and wasn't watching. I alerted the crew to bail out. The engine was burning badly. After that the Bombardier told me there was a man in rear bomb bay and we had to get him out. We notified the man to clear the bomb bay. At the same time my Pilot, Lt. McCowen, succeeded in feathering the engine. We put the fire out at which time I started my turn to a reciprocal heading. I asked the Bombardier to get rid of the bombs and he said when the man was out of bomb bay, and when he was, he attempted to salvo the bombs. We salvoed front bomb bay only. At the time it put me in a pretty bad spot. I was scared.
Q: What was the direction of the turn if you recall; was it into the dead engine or away from it?
A: Yes, it was into the dead engine. There was an island, the Engineer mentioned, just to the west of us. If I couldn't get all the way back I wanted to get close to that. At that particular time we salvoed and we spiraled. A number of times we flopped over violently. All the control I put in didn't have satisfactory action until all the bombs were out of the rear bomb bay. The Bombardier told the scanner to turn his salvo switch on but that failed to salvo the bombs and then the bombardier short-trained them out, then the plane recovered. The turn wasn't over 180 degrees but it was violent, especially for a B-29. I had to lose altitude to maintain airspeed. We were loaded and I didn't want to drop below 160 or 150 on conditions like that. At one time we dropped to 160. The ship recovered after we got the bombs out and the bomb bay doors closed, in the neighborhood of 1300 feet I would say. After the bombs were out I climbed to 2500 feet and homed in on Mike Fox homer.
Q: When you feathered No. 1 did you change your power settings?
A: Yes. After setting 2400 rpm I increased to 42 inches.
Q: That was TBS setting approximately?
A: I don't know. I asked for it but I got my power.
Q: Before you attempted to salvo, were you losing altitude?
A: It happened rather rapidly. We were losing some airspeed. We might have been losing some but it was gradual, no emergency. We would naturally lose airspeed. Maybe some altitude in trying to maintain airspeed but it's not certain.
Q: The emergency then occurred after the bombs were salvoed from the front?
A: Yes, as far as airspeed, we lost a little before.
Q: When you arrived at Mike Fox homer could you see the field at all from that particular point?
A: I wasn't particularly interested in looking for it.
Q: You were flying normal instrument procedure?
A: Yes. We were 2500 and I homed in on homer Mike Fox and took a 90 degree heading. I could see towns and lights on the Pilot's side but I made no attempt to pick out the landing strip.
Q: Regarding the GCA approach, have you any derogatory comment to make as to the GCA procedure?
A: I was satisfied.
Q: They were doing normal GCA approach for you?
A: Yes.
Q: What is your normal GCA approach: any, other than a 4-engine approach?
A: We make no special changes but you do delay putting your gear down and delay on your flaps.
Q: So you wouldn't set them up too soon. Other than that you would make no changes?
A: Personally, I ride the glide path high but I prefer to bring them in a little high on 3 engines.
Q: What is your main reason for that?
A: I can always pull it off and circumstances show you can keep 150 high on a glide path on 3 engines. It is desirable because you can always come down but not always go back up.
Q: Would that be based on the actual visibility?
A: I don't know what you mean, Sir.
Q: If you had 150 foot ceiling and 1/4 mile visibility would you bring it in high?
A: Far as the runway, yes Sir, if we had 150 foot ceiling. Whenever you get a little low and have to add too much power to get back I don't like it.
Q: Would you go through your procedure for your final approach on 3-engines?
A: It was sloppy and recovering from a left turn put the pattern too far to the left. I put the rudder in and she really hammered back there. I was slow coming out of the turn. The pattern was sloppy like the turn. On the final I overshot considerably, at which time I could see the runway and got back on course. The main difficulty was the rudder control. Every time I put the rudder in too far I would have to back off and use ailerons. And we rode the glide path high and the IP suggested I get on. I was using balanced power and backed off to about 13 inches on No. 2 engine. I made too much correction and went below. I put the power back on two (2) engines, enough to stabilize it but we were still below. I added power to No. 4 engine and it pulled us off to the left of the runway, about the width of an airplane, maybe not that much. It was to the left of the strip. At that time the IP took over.
Q: At this descent did the IP reduce the throttles, or did you at his request?
A: I am under oath, Sir, and I think I reduced them but actually I don't know whether I did or not, but I think I did.
Q: Did you want to cut back 2 and 3 at that time? If the IP hadn't t old you, would you have done it?
A: No, Sir. I hedge on these things. I like a margin and work on that principle.
Q: You didn't want to?
A: I didn't have a negative attitude. I had no opposition.
Q: But if he weren't there you wouldn't have done so?
A: That's right, I wouldn't have. But I had no opposition.
Q: Do you feel you pulled back 2 and 3 too much?
A: Yes, Sir. Our rate of descent was too rapid.
Q: Why did you pull back 2 and 3 so much then, if you did?
A: Error in judgment. When I pulled it back I didn't anticipate the increase we got. I think the ship had me.
Q: Can you tell me when you called for full flaps for final, the distance it was from the field?
A: That is hard to say. I had the runway in visual sight. I saw we were going to make it. We had room. I asked for full flaps.
Q: That is normal on GCA? After you get the field in full view you ask for full flaps?
A: Yes, Sir.
Q: Do you feel the IP was entirely right in taking over the aircraft at the time he did?
A: At the time he took over I felt as if it was all right if he felt he could do a better job than I did. It was all right with me. I didn't hesitate.
Q: Do you feel that you could have made a satisfactory landing?
A: Yes, Sir.
Q: Since you were off to the left of the runway approximately a wing span do you feel you had sufficient altitude to set it down?
A: We weren't to the runway and had time to get over there.
Q: When the IP made correction to go back to the runway the first time did he get it in steep bank?
A: Yes. Our position, we sort of knifed against the end of the runway and were going to the right.
Q: Did it seem his reactions were too slow the way the airplane responded to his corrections?
A: Do you want an opinion of what I think? I think maybe that the perspective from one seat to another is terrific and if he hadn't made too many landings from the right seat he corrected where he thought it should be, but when he got there, he was too far right. I've made landings from that seat. He thought I was farther off than I was because he was sitting in the right seat. In other words, it looked like he wanted that much correction because he thought we were farther off.
Q: What time did you stop taking instructions from GCA and channel your own runway?
A: About 50 feet below the glide path. I figured I could see it and to heck with those people and put this thing on the runway.
Q: How far away from the runway were you at the time, and approximately what altitude?
A: Well, at the time we were indicating about 500 feet, and I would say we were...These distances get me.
Q: Just a half-way estimate.
A: 500 to 1000 feet to the end of the runway.
Q: Do you remember what weight the Flight Engineer had given?
A: When we opened the nose wheel hatch we lost our charts and weights. They went down the hatch. He gave a rough guess right around 115,000. That's the figure that sticks in my mind anyway.
Q: Do you recall the attempted correction for the approach, whether the IP tried to make a go around of it, or did he try to land?
A: Again I'm trying to think into another man's mind. When he made the first correction we were trying to get on the runway. When he made the second correction we were still trying to get on. When he asked for all the power and gear and flaps I figured he was trying to make a go around. I'll never know, though.
Q: What was your airspeed when you were going around?
A: (Reflecting)
Q: The indications point to 110.
A: No, Sir. No, I can't give you the estimate.
Q: What is your opinion of 3-engine go arounds?
A: If you start soon enough, it's alright, before you get your full flaps, and are still on approach.
Q: Would you consider a B-29 3-engine go around an emergency operation?
A: Not until this time. I might change my opinion. I never had the crew posted for a 3-crash landing.
Q: Do you always fly the GCA high on a normal landing?
A: No, Sir. I fly as normal.
Q: At the beginning, when the front bomb bay salvoed and you lost that altitude did you get upset?
A: No, Sir.
Q: Did you feel you lost control of the plane momentarily?
A: Momentarily, yes. At that particular time I prepared to get out. I had aileron-rudder in and she wasn't reacting.
Q: What made you lose speed? Just the one engine going out?
A: That, and I purposely slowed up. It was a choice of holding airspeed and altitude.
Q: What was that, 200 feet above the glide path?
A: I don't think it was 200--a little over 100.
Q: How far out from the field do you estimate you were at the time the IP told you to cut back?
A: Half way down the approach.
Q: How many miles?
A: I don't know.
Q: Can't you estimate how many runway lengths? That would give us an idea.
A: About 2 1/2 to 3 runways would make it 2 1/2 to 3 miles.
Q: Did the IP ask you to cut back 2 and 3, or did he tell you?
A: I can't repeat his exact words. The impression I had was I had better get down on glide path and I made an attempt.
Q: He was obviously listening to GCA?
A: I think so.
Q: Did he seem to be worried about that elevation above the glide path?
A: No, Sir. His voice didn't give any indication.
Q: Do you think he might have manipulated the controls also, to get down on the glide path?
A: It is never done, so I doubt whether he did it.
Q: do you think you could have made a safe landing unassisted if you were left entirely at the controls?
A: Yes, Sir.
Q: And you also think the IP was attempting at the last minute to make a go around?
A: Yes, Sir.
Q: Just before crash you put your hands on the controls?
A: Yes, Sir.
Q: Why?
A: something happened in my stomach and I knew she was going. I knew he had full ailerons. I reached up and started cranking something, I don't know.
Q: What was the wing: Down right or left?
A: We were fairly level. The right wing was down the least bit and we were aligned to the left.
Q: After you overpowered him, did you pass the runway?
A: We were past the runway, where the sand is.
Q: Your plane landed level. Do you think putting your hands on the controls helped level it?
A: No, Sir. I don't think my action had any effect on the airplane. It was level. It's just one of the tings I did without reasoning.
Q: Do you think the correction of this 200 feet back down to the glide path bothered you throughout the remainder of your GCA approach at all?
A: (reflecting)
Q: The question is, due to the change of altitude from 200 feet above trying to get on glide path, did it bother you?
A: I wouldn't say it bothered me. I just tried to make the adjustment.
Q: You were on course when you were 200 feet above and when you corrected and went below you put on power. Is that the time you were off the runway?
A: Yes. Of course we did overshoot on the final approach.
Q: On final approach with No. 1 engine out, did that have a bearing on the pattern?
A: I was having trouble recovering from my left turn and was making a shallow turn.
The court adjourned at 1130 hours.
The court convened again at 1300 hours.
Capt. Snook brought the next witness, Lt. Badzik in. After administering the oath, Capt. Snook inquired of witness whether he understood his rights under the 31st Article, Manual for Courts Martial, United States. Not completely understanding the 31st Article, Capt. Snook then read that Article to witness. Capt. Snook further advised witness that this was a fact-finding Board, designed to uncover all the facts surrounding this case and that no statement the witness might make could be used against him. Witness was asked to be seated.
Lt. Col. Williams: Give us your particular capacity and position in the aircraft?
A: I was flying as IP in the right seat.
Q: During your take-off?
A: Well, I took off in the right seat and we were cleared to climb to 3500 feet as altitude 100 miles out. I was up around 3000 feet when I got out to let the Pilot in and stood in the aisle.
Q: Explain the circumstances when you got out of the seat, during notice of the fire, and getting back into the seat again.
A: From the time I got out of the seat?
Q: Yes. Everything that you can remember.
A: Well I got out of the seat and was going to get myself comfortable. Got my headset and throat mike and was going to hook it up and I had had a few words with the engineer and asked how everything goes. A few minutes after being out of the seat I heard two rapid backfires coming from the left of the airplane. I jumped up and looked out the window and saw No. 1 was burning. I immediately told the Engineer to feather No. 1 and I hit No. 1 feathering button. I guess about the same time I told him to pull CO2 bottles on No. 1. This all happened within a few seconds of time. I told the Bombardier to open the bombay doors. I believe he got the bombs out. The way the ship acted earlier I thought we had bombs still in front bombay but they told me later we had no bombs in front. I told Capt. Wynn to head down to 2000 feet. We were heading back to Kadena. I told the Engineer to open nose wheel and drop nose gear. I also hit the salvo button to try to get remaining bombs out. I guess it didn't do any good. A few seconds later the Bombardier said he would train them out.
Q: How did the aircraft act after one-half the bombs salvoed?
A: We were in a spiral.
Q: What direction?
A: Into the dead engine. I thought we had dropped the bombs out the rear bombay.
Q: I notice in some of the statements that you did loose considerable altitude. Was the pilot losing altitude in combination with your instructions, or what?
A: I don't know what he was thinking about. At one time we were above 270 and I shook him a little bit. I pointed to the airspeed. At that time we were down at 1200 feet.
Q: He had reached an airspeed of how much?
A: I looked at the airspeed one time and it was at between 260 and 270.
Q: Do you remember what airspeed you were cruising at the time you lost your engine?
A: No, Sir.
Q: You don't know if the appreciable drop in airspeed at the time reached proportions of 60 or 70 miles an hour?
A: No, Sir. At that time I was intent on getting the fire out. No one seemed to take any initiative. I pushed the button myself and told him to feather. At this time I just got my headset on and didn't have the throat mike on and was hopping back and forth between the Engineer and the A/C and I tore my headset off and don't know what discussion took place.
Q: Are you relatively sure it was 270 and it wasn't 170 at the time you were letting down?
A: It seemed awfully fast, Sir.
Q: Was it a direct reading?
A: It was with a two (2) in the instrument window and a dial reading of 60 or 70.
Q: This was before you got your bombs out of the rear bay?
A: Yes, Sir.
Q: At that time you were between 1200 and 1300 feet?
A: Yes, Sir.
Q: When did you begin to sit in the front seat of the aircraft?
A: As soon as we got the fire out.
Q: Did you notice at the time of the fire whether rpm increased, manifold pressure if any?
A: I remember I increased the rpm on the way back. There was a strange sort of shuddering in the tail section at between 160 and 161. We had 2400 set up and I must have boosted it up twice at least for finally we had around 2500.
Q: When you got back to Mike Fox homer was the air base visible?
A: I couldn't see it until we turned on final. We were about 1/2 or 3/4 miles to the right. That's when I saw it.
Q: To get back to GCA operations, after they picked you up, I presume you were listening all the time?
A: Off and on.
Q: Have you any complaints as to the way GCA handled the flight?
A: I can't imagine why we were to the right on the final.
Q: Do you remember on the final how sharp a turn you made?
A: I guess it could have been speeded up. It could have been a little closer maybe.
Q: When you turned off your base leg on your final, you were considerably right of the runway. It indicated to me you made a slow turn. I wonder if the GCA had any conversation with you the way you turned?
A: At that time the A/C was flying. I believe the turn was shallow, but still not that much.
Q: The GCA unit did get you corrected and get you back on course to line up with the runway?
A: We got fairly close to the runway. We must have been headed about 20 degrees, anyhow back on the course that would take us on the runway.
Q: What was your position on the flight? Explain your final approach, the GCA pattern.
A: Just as soon as we turned on final, I was told our gross weight was 115,000 pounds and I tried to find the card that indicates what stalling speed we would have at that weight, flying flaps down, so I told him about 115 miles an hour. Also told him not to let airspeed, less than 150 miles per hour. I switched back to VHF and I heard, from GCA that we were 200 feet above the glide path.
Q: Did you use standard check list procedure?
A: Yes, I had it in my hand.
Q: What took place after they told you, you were 200 feet off the glide path. Did you take any action?
A: No, Sir.
Q: Did you tell the pilot to do anything?
A: I told him he was high. I don't know if I told him 200 feet. There wasn't much more comment from GCA until we were too low.
Q: Did you ask the pilot to make any more correction?
A: I didn't know if he heard GCA. I asked him.
Q: Did he reduce power to go down?
A: I believe he reduced a little power.
Q: What altitude and distance from the runway were you when you were VFR?
A: From the time we turned on final, I could see runway lights.
Q: Do you have any SOP set-up for 3-engine approaches that differ from 4-engine approaches?
A: I don't know what you mean, Sir.
Q: SOP for making 3-engine approaches any different in procedure?
A: Yes, Sir. The time you drop the flaps, etc., that's all that is different. Also on 3 engines I like a pattern of 180, not below 170. I made 3-engine landings before.
Q: Explain to us, if you can, just what happened as you approached the runway, the corrective action taken, and the events that took place until the final crash.
A: The reason I took control of the aircraft I believe we were too low and at about 140 and left on course.
Q: How far left on course were you?
A: I would say 150 feet left.
Q: How far from end of runway?
A: 200 or 300 yards.
Q: That's where you took over, and then what happened?
A: All the way on final, we had that shuddering of the tail. Trying to maintain airspeed as soon as I took over I had No. 2's power all the way. I used rudder-aileron trying to get over to the right side. In a fraction of a second we were at the right outer edge of the runway. I just eased her over a little to the left. When the left wing dropped, I tried to bring up with ailerons. It wouldn't come up.
Q: That was when you were applying power?
A: As soon as my wing dropped, I advanced Nos. 2 and 3.
Q: Do you remember your airspeed?
A: 120 or 125.
Q: Then what happened?
A: My one thought was to get that wing up. Like I say, with a throttle full she would come up slowly. It was obvious to me we would have to go straight ahead and I called for gear up and no one did anything, so I just raised the gear and then we were in. I could see periodically, the runway and the terrain.
Q: Did you at anytime try to make a go around?
A: No, Sir. That never even occurred to me.
Q: Did you close all your throttles completely, in preparation for a crash?
A: I eased back at the time of impact, but didn't get the throttles completely back.
Q: If you weren't contemplating a go around, what explanation do you give for wing flaps going up 25 degrees?
A: I never thought of wing flaps being up. I asked for more rpm. I referred to it as more power. I asked for gear up. I thought of landing in the woods. It's been told to me, and I believe it's better, to have your gear up.
Q: We are not questioning that. I just couldn't understand the wing flaps at 25 degrees.
A: I never even mentioned the word "flaps".
Q: How long have you been an IP?
A: This was my first flight.
Q: Will you tell us how much time, approximately, you had in the right seat of aircraft?
A: In a B-29?
Q: Yes, a B-29.
A: I think I have had one other hop in the right seat.
Q: Counting co-pilot time?
A: I wasn't a co-pilot on a B-29.
Q: You started as pilot?
A: Yes, I think the other time was at Randolph about six months ago.
Q: Just for one flight's duration?
A: I believe at that time we had two or three A/C's taking up and we alternated in the seat.
Q: Do you recall, did you notice, or have you had it called to your attention the difference in perspective sitting in the right seat, or how different the runway looks from the right seat?
A: I can't see where it makes such difference being 200 or 300 yards back. You can see your runway lights.
Q: You say this is your first light as an IP on a B-29. When was your original check-out in a B-29? First time you started flying.
A: April or May of 51.
Q: Can you - do you - have a reason for going clear across the runway on your correction from left and then to right? What was the perspective, or what?
A: No, Sir. There wasn't much difference between edge of runway if we were going to set it down. Still we were right at the edge of the runway if the wing hadn't dropped.
Q: What type of check-out did you have when you were checked out as IP?
A: I was listed on a Loading List as IP.
Q: Were you given a briefing as to duties as IP and what you were supposed to do before the flight?
A: No, Sir, no one briefed me, but I had a pretty good idea of what I was to do.
Q: Did you talk it over with the pilot as to what each was supposed to do?
A: Yes, and we discussed a number of things. He told me he didn't believe in a heavy weight take-off procedure; he'd rather start off slowly and I told him he just couldn't do it.
Q: What, roughly, total time did you have in a B-29?
A: A little over 300 hours.
Q: Was this the pilot's first flight on the combat mission, and did you know the reason you were going along as IP?
A: In our squadron, generally until 2nd or 3rd missions, the IP goes along. The man hadn't been briefed.
Q: Did you know specifically, why you were going along? Could it have been his 10th mission?
A: No, I knew it was either his first, second, or third.
Q: Do you feel that the plane was stalling out when you were making that turn and releasing the bombs?
A: No, the plane was going fast.
Q: You weren't at the controls?
A: No, I don't think it was out of control.
Q: When you approached glide path how high were you?
A: 200 feet.
Q: GCA told you?
A: (Nod.)
Q: Corrective action was taken shortly thereafter?
A: Yes, Sir.
Q: What kind of discussion did you have with the A/C? Did you tell him to pull back throttles or pull back throttles or what specific instructions did you give?
A: No, all I told him was we were a little high.
Q: Were you aware of what he did then?
A: He must have decreased a little power, because we were 140 miles an hour.
Q: He went through glide path?
A: Yes, GCA said he was below the glide path.
Q: Were you concerned about those positions: the high and low? Did it bother you?
A: In what respect?
Q: Were you worried about it?
A: When we were coming in the runway, I would be concerned but way out there, 200 feet above, no.
Q: What did he do to go back on the glide path?
A: I don't know, because then I took over.
Q: You hit all three (3) throttles?
A: No, I had 2 or 3 up all the way, and 4 about one-half way.
Q: Did that make you go to the right?
A: No.
Q: Do you think, at that time, you might have over-corrected?
A: If I did, it wasn't much. As I said, we were at the edge of the runway and we were edging in slowly.
Q: After you took over the controls, did the A/C ever put his hands back on the controls again, to your knowledge?
A: I don't think so. I know I had full rudder-aileron.
Q: Why did you take over the controls?
A: The airspeed was too low and the ground not too far ahead.
Q: Do you think he would have made it if you hadn't taken over the controls?
A: No, that is my personal opinion.
Q: Do you know the airspeed you can hold a B-29 with full flaps, three (3) engines operating full power and one feathered, with that gross weight? A mile or two difference and the wing will drop.
A: I don't know what you mean.
Q: You were flying an airplane and there is a critical airspeed which you can't hold it up on both sides. Ever run into a Tech Order on that?
A: It was above 35 miles above stalling speed.
Q: That would be about it if you had full power on three (3) engines. It would have been impossible for you to hold. If you overshot the runway on correction and had to hold back, that may have been why your wing dropped and you were killing airspeed all the while. When the wing dropped and you put the correction right away, did you do anything besides aileron and the rudder correction?
A: I had No. 2 advanced. I think that is the only thing that brought that wing up.
Q: Did the torque of the aircraft pull you into the new strip or did you intentionally turn?
A: Once the wing dropped, we were headed away from the landing strip.
Q: All the power you had couldn't bring you up?
A: I had full power like I told you and I knew the terrain was fairly level from previous experience and I knew the runway was there, but I thought we had gone beyond the new runway.
Q: You thought you had hit the new runway?
A: I thought I had gone beyond it.
Q: In your training at Randolph, was that the only training?
A: No, also at Forbes.
Q: Much training at Forbes?
A: Limited training there.
Q: Generally below 400 or 500 feet, do you think B-29s are fairly easy to make go arounds?
A: On simulated go arounds, I can't see difficulty as long as he has the altitude.
Q: Have you made any go arounds since you got out of Randolph?
A: Yes. When I checked out at Forbes, the IP there made me.
Q: Any on your own for practice?
A: No, I made only one and that was here.
Q: How much total time, roughly do you have, within 100 hours?
A: 1500 hours.
Q: Have you ever been involved in any other aircraft accident?
A: Never have. I was in the enlisted ranks prior to going to bombing school and I was bombardier in '43.
Capt. Snook then brought the next witness in.
Capt. Snook administered the oath to T/Sgt. Hamm Jr. and then inquired of the latter if he was familiar with Article 31, Manual for Courts Martial United States. Upon receivi9ng a negation to this query, Capt. Snook then proceeded to read Article 31, after which he advised the witness the Board was investigating this case solely to determine all the facts and that any statement the witness might make derogatory to himself, could not be used against him. Capt. Snook then asked witness to give his name to the recorder. "T/Sgt. Joseph G. Hamm, Jr."
Lt. Col. Williams: I should like to reiterate this Board is investigating this accident in order to ferret out all the pertinent facts leading to this accident; in order to help some other crew from repeating perhaps the same mistakes. We would like you to tell us all the incidents surrounding the final approach--everything you can tell us starting with your final GCA approach up to the time of the crash.
A: It is rather hard for me to say too much; riding backwards I don't have much chance to see too much. Also in turns it takes some time to feel a turn or to get the sensation of one if it's a fairly smooth maneuver. I called up and notified the crew we were going to make a GCA 3-engine landing. Everything looked all right. All other engines looked normal and I thought it would be a normal 3-engine landings. While the approach went on I don't know how high above ground we were or the particular attitude of the ship. I heard the IP say to Capt Wynn, "I've got it", and it seems he repeated it two or three times. Capt. Wynn said, "You've got it." The IP shortly afterwards called for gear up, full power, and flaps up. I looked at the manifold pressure. It was rising all right. I didn't notice airspeed. I was braced, since a long time ago I got in the habit of bracing for any landing. I had my hands on the panel, watching instruments. I barely glanced out the window and from the corner of my eye saw a tree or something. Next thing I knew we hit, seems like tail first. I reached for switches with my right hand and in doing so was thrown back against the switches with my right hand and in doing so was thrown back against the seat again. The second time I threw the crash bar off and I won't say for sure but I'm pretty sure I got it. Then I decided I'd better start for fuel shut-off valves and I reached for those, and about that time I saw the fire pretty near. I stooped and saw it coming through the hatch. I removed my hatch and threw it down in the nose. The doors sprung up and I proceeded out of the airplane. My hatch was almost on top of the airplane. I was going to slide down the side, but the fire was close so I went down the nose and front.
Q: Did it appear the pilot said he was trying to make a go-around?
A: I don't recall but I remember he had gear and flaps.
Q: That was set up for a go-around?
A: Yes, where I had 5 degree cowl flaps 7 degrees GCA pattern I remember they called to set the turbo at 7 1/2. We had 2400 rpm and in the pattern we were drawing between 30-35 inches different times, depending on what they were doing.
Q: Normally when you were near the runway and someone called for flaps up would that mean milking them up or what?
A: I flew during the war and I would say bring them up for that particular aircraft.
Q: You weren't listening to GCA?
A: No, Sir.
Q: Was power cut to get the ship low on the final approach? Was the exaggerated power changed?
A: Decrease in power? I don't think so.
Q: How about your No. 4 engine. On the glide path do you remember what that was?
A: I believe at one time they did have it cut back a slight bit below the others and I believe it was for dual control. I think they wound the trim out, the trim out of the rudder.
Q: By the time you got back to the field you were going too slow for a go around?
A: The last airspeed reading I took was about 140 and I don't know how high we were off the ground. But during GCA the airspeed was, well, about 150 at all times and it dropped to 140 and he called for flaps.
Q: When he called for power and flaps up did you happen to notice the settings of the engines at that time?
A: Yes. Full power was applied. The rpm was 2400 and he came forward with his throttles. It was well up over 40 inches. The rpm had started to rise but it was slow. It doesn't have a quick reaction. About that time I looked at my other instruments to see if we had oil pressure and fuel pressure and it didn't seem anytime at all after that that we hit.
Q: To go back. When you lost No. 1, what exact sequence was followed on setting that up for 3-engine operation?
A: It seems to me, I have asked other members of the crew and they thought they heard the same thing I did prior to the report that the engine was on fire. It seems to me I heard something like a backfire. In a few seconds the left gunner called that flames were coming from No. 1 engine. I looked through the Navigator's window and the flames were quite red. The A/C said feather No. 1 engine. I proceeded with fire procedures. On the Phone the conversation was that they were trying to salvo bombs. Shortly after, a couple of seconds, the A/C notified the crew to prepare to bail out. The IP immediately told me to lower the nose wheel and open the hatch. I lowered the nose wheel and I opened the hatch. I hadn't finished with feathering procedure. I understand later it went through the full sequence and unfeathered itself. Well, Lt. McCowen pushed the button the second time and the prop feathered. Prior to all this when he said to feather I called for 2400 rpm and 44 inches up. To me at that altitude it seems we could have held it safely at that.
Q: What was the airspeed after you dropped the nose wheel?
A: Well, we salvoed the forward bomb bay and picked up airspeed and I don't know exactly how much it was. About 100, I thought. If the fire hadn't gone completely out I thought the A/C was diving the ship to put the fire out.
Q: The airspeed did increase?
A: Yes, over 200. I'm not sure. We finally got bombs out of the rear and we leveled off. The left gunner called and said the fire was out. I followed the procedure for CO2 bottles and cleaned up the panel. In the process of opening the nose wheel door, my log was on my lap and I believe it went out the hatch. We climbed back up to 2500 feet. They asked me for gross weight at landing. I gave an estimate between 113,000 and 115,00 lbs. I knew I used about 1000 pounds of fuel, salvoed about 20,000 of bombs. We weighed close to 115,000 lbs. We weren't exactly light.
Q: When you cut your fuel off tell us the sequence.
A: I was disturbed somewhat with that prepare to bail out. As soon as the A/C said "feather" he pressed feather button and I shut off the fuels. I shut my fuel off by the tank shut-off valves.
Q: And after the prop stopped feathering then you discharged your CO2 bottles. One of two?
A: Both bottles. It is recommended to use both bottles on one fire. One might put it out but two stands a better chance. After you have discharged the bottles you clean up the panel, turn off your generator switches. You have set your cowl flaps and oil cooler flaps for least amount of drag. More or less cleaning up, as they say.
Q: Was this your first combat mission?
A: No, I flew one on the 22nd.
Q: This was your 2nd?
A: Yes, Sir.
Lt. Col. Williams: I don't believe we have any more questions. You may be excused.
Board Findings
Failure of number 1 engine is a contributing factor to the accident.
Weather is not considered a factor.
From the evidence given, the Board believes that an attempted go-around was made.
The Aircraft Commander errored in allowing the aircraft to veer left just prior to reaching the approach end of the runway.
The IP took over the aircraft to correct the error, and in correction, over-controlled too far to the right, then in attempting to align himself with the runway over corrected to the left. At this point an attempted go-around was made which resulted in a stall due to low airspeed, and an uncontrollable condition existed, because of torque, when power was applied to the three engines.
That the IP was not properly checked out as an Instructor Pilot.
That the IP was not qualified for IP duties inasmuch as previous experience in the B-29 did not include qualifying right seat time.
Supervisory error is a factor inasmuch as the Instructor Pilot was assigned duties in which he was obviously not qualified.
Board Recommendations
That thorough and complete Instructor Pilot checks out be given prior to assigning personnel these duties.
That Pilot Training Units within the United States endeavor to more thoroughly qualify Aircraft Commanders prior to sending them over seas as Combat Replacements.
(signed)
Walter A. Williams, Lt. Col., USAF, President
Robert R. Snook, Captain, USAF, Acft Acc Inves Off
John A. Booth, Lt. Col., USAF (MC), Medical Member
William R. Sebasky, Captain, USAF, Maintenance Member
Statement - 1/Lt. John R. Badzik - I, 1/Lt. John R. Badzik AO-708998 assigned as IP Aircraft 1925 - date 30 Jan. 1952 - which was involved in the accident at Kadena AFB, state the preflight was normal, and inspection normal, an starting engines, 3 & 4 normally, #1 had to be turned over twice to start, #2 started normal.
We taxied to take off position & utilizing check list prepared to take off, take off normal, flew out 6 minutes and turned on first heading in the green, cleared by tower to climb to 3500 ft and maintains 3500 ft for 1st 100 mile leg, or 100 miles out, upon reaching appx. 2500 ft I got out of the right seat to 1st Capt. Wynne, pilot, into the seat, I was in the process of getting my headset and throat mike connected in the aisle stand position when I heard what sounded to me like two rapid backfires coming from engines either 1 or 2. I got up and looked out the left window and saw that no. 1 engine was burning. Flames were coming out around the cowl flaps, exhaust stack. My first impression was that it was a gasoline fire, I immediately told the Engineer to use feathering procedure on #1 & hit the feathering button, about the same time I yelled to the Bombardier to salvo bombs, also told the Engineer to pull the CO2 bottles on #1, then told the Engineer to open nose wheel well and drop the nose gear. We had difficulty jettisoning bombs out of the rear. Bombardier reported bombs went out the front and not the rear. So I tripped the salvo switch on the pilots aisle stand but bombs would not release a few moments later bombardier reported that he had trained the remainder out the crew in the meantime was alerted to prepare to bail out. Approx a minute or two after the bombs all jettisoned the fire seemed to be dying down.
After the fire was completely out, told the bombardier to close the bomb bay doors and Engineer to raise the nose gear, and we proceeded on to Kadena at apprx 2500 ft. At about this time I returned to the right seat. Approach to Mike Fox Homer was normal at 2500 ft. GCA was notified that #1 was feathered. A/C was making the GCA on the base leg gear was lowered GCA had us make a left turn onto the final approach. After rolling out on final, 25 degrees flaps was lowered. On rolling out I saw the field runway lights approximately 1/2 mile to the left of our course. I told Capt Wynn where the lights were and he headed in that direction on a course of approx. 030 degrees. About this time considerable shuddering was observed in the rudder control so I increased RPM to approx. 2550 RPM. This shuddering was noted at approx. 150 MPH. indicated, prior to this I received landing information from Engineer. Gross weight was approx. 115,000 lbs. I relayed this information to the AC. During the approach tail section shuddered periodically at airspeeds between 150 and 160 ind.
About this time I switched my jack box to command hear GCA advise us we were 200 ft above glide path and I could see we were left of on course, rate of decent was increased and shortly thereafter GCA advised that we were below the glide patch and I could see we were holding to the left of the runway at approx this time I asked the AC to let me have the controls. Our Airspeed was down to approx. 140 IND. so I applied power moreso on 2 & 3 than I did #4 about this time we were approx. 200 ft from the end of the runway. I managed to bring the left wing up enough to make the turn to the right to get lined up with the runway. I was over the right edge of the runway when the left wing dropped dangerously low and the aircraft turned to the left headed across the runway my one thought was to get the left wing up. I had full right rudder and aileron in attempting to bring it up, wing would not come up so I advanced throttle on #2 engine and the wing came up slowly, the plane was partially stalling so I increased power on the other engines. It was obvious to me that at this low altitude and full flaps down that a go around could not be attempted. I knew from past experience that the terrain to the left of the landing strip was fairly level so made the decision to crash land straight ahead. I called for fear up--reached over myself and tripped the landing gear switch to the up position, landing lights were extended and we settled down until we made contact with the ground. I believe the tail skid hit and the airplane went back into the air and came down and made final contact. The aircraft was on a fairly level attitude when hitting the ground. After stopping I was fully conscious. I unfastened the safety belt, removed my parachute and then realized my leg was pinned between the rudder mounts. About this time the AC yelled to me his leg was pinned. I got myself loose and was about to aid the AC when he told me he was okay. I could see the Engineer was about to aid the AC when he told me he was okay. I could see the Engineer was out, Navigator behind him. AC went out the escape window and I went out mine. When I made contact with the ground I crawled away from the aircraft. I certify to the best of my knowledge that the statements above are true.
Statement by Joe B. Rose - I, Joe B. Rose, was left gunner on aircraft 925 on night of 30 Jan 52. We took off from Kadena AFB at 1851 hours. We climbed out, made our turn and proceeded on course. Approximately 20 minutes out I detected flame coming from the underside of No. 1 engine. I reported this to the Aircraft Commander. He instructed the crew to prepare for bail out. The bombs were salvoed so we could get out the bomb bay. No. 1 engine was feathered and the fire was put out completely so we returned to Kadena. We made a normal 3 engine, GCA approach. When we broke out of the overcast the plane made a sharp turn to the right and then back to the left. I heard power coming on the remaining engines and then we hit off the runway. The plane had started to burn before we stopped moving. I remained conscious and was able to get out without any help. - I certify that the above statement is true to the best of my knowledge.
B-29 Down, Sea of Japan, February 01, 1952 (Sea of Japan)
F-86 Sabre, North Korea, February 10, 1952 (North Korea)
C-46D Crash, Wheeler-Sack AFB, February 10, 1952 (New York)
B-26 Disappearance, March 06, 1952 (Korea)
On a night intruder mission over North Korea, this B-26B (#44-34247) disappeared and was presumed to crash. The last contact with the crew was at 0045L inbound to a target. There were three crew members, all still listed as missing in action.
[KWE Note: On June 29, 1951, this aircraft, known as BC-247, was involved in a crash at Iwakuni Air Base in Japan. Harry C. Torrey was piloting the plane during this incident. Cause of the crash was mechanical failure. The plane (identified with a dragon on its nose) was later transferred to the 3rd Bomb Wing, 13th Bombardment Squadron.]
Beacham, Thomas Henry - tail gunner
Thomas was born January 22, 1930 in Mississippi, a son of Henry Wayne Beacham (1901-1974) and Ruby Dexter Beacham (1905-1997). Henry's siblings were Henry Felder Beacham, Sissy Beacham, and Dr. Albert Wayne Beacham (1933-2013).. There is a memorial to Airman Beacham in John Felder Memorial Park, Pike County, Mississippi. He was the recipient of the Air Medal.
Gould, Gene Wilton - navigator
Gene was born July 21, 1924 in Illinois. He was the son of Loren Gould (born 1902) and Myrtle Harriett Wilton Gould (1898-1987). He married his wife, Yvonne Marie Strickland Gould (1926-2013), in 1945. They had a son, Richard Strickland Gould, and daughter Marian J. Gould. Yvonne later married Robert Louis Schmidt. Captain Gould was the recipient of a Distinguished Flying Cross and the Air Medal (four clusters). There is a marker for him in Fort Logan National Cemetery.
Newton, Robert Roy - pilot
Major Newton was born March 17, 1923. He was from Colorado Springs, El Paso County, Colorado. He was the recipient of two Distinguished Flying Crosses and the Air Medal with two clusters.
B-26C Missing in Action - March 06, 1952
B-26C #44-34542A, part of the 8th Bomb Squadron, departed its base on March 05, 1952, under call sign "Pentail 09" on a night interdiction mission. The crew was advised by "Pentail 02" at 2152 of a live locomotive. "Pentail 09" acknowledged incorrectly. "Pentail 02" tried to contact to correct acknowledgment. No answer was received and there was no further contact. A subsequent air search for the missing plane was made with negative results. The crew remains missing in action.
Davies, Capt. Howard Joseph - Captain Davies was the bombardier of a B-26C with the 8th Bomber Squadron, 3rd Bomber Wing based at Kunsan Airfield (K-8), South Korea. On March 6, 1952, while on a night intruder mission, contact with aircraft was lost at target BA 89-11. He was listed as Missing in Action and was presumed dead on February 28, 1954. He was from Kanawha County, West Virginia. Howard was born February 06, 1923 in West Virginia, a son of Howard J. Davies (born 1884) and Anna Nash McClung (1887-1926). His siblings included Eleanor McClung Davies (1917-1933) and Hueston Blaine Davies (1919-2010).
Hoff, 1Lt. Warren Mervin "Bud" - First Lieutenant Hoff was the pilot of a B-26C with the 8th Bomber Squadron, 3rd Bomber Wing based at Kunsan Air Force Base (K-8), Korea. On March 6, 1952, while on a night intruder mission, contact with aircraft was lost at target BA8911. He was listed as Missing in Action and was presumed dead on February 28, 1954. His remains were not recovered. Born November 20, 1925, he was from Portland, Oregon. Warren was born November 20, 1925, a son of Henry Richard Hoff (1895-1957) and Medora Margaret Rice Hoff (1900-1988). His siblings were Kay H. Hoff (1924-1994), Lester H. Hoff (1934-1950) and Charles A. Hoff (deceased).
Peterson, A/3c Norman Wayne - Airman First Class Peterson was the tail gunner of a B-26C with the 8th Bomber Squadron, 3rd Bomber Wing based at Kunsan Air Force Base (K-8), Korea. On March 6, 1952, while on a night intruder mission, contact with aircraft was lost at target BA8911. He was listed as Missing in Action and was presumed dead on February 28, 1954. He was born October 17, 1929, and was from a family of nine boys. He was from Waseca, Minnesota. Norman was born October 19, 1929, in Waseca, Minnesota, a son of Johan Oscar Ephraim Peterson (1890-1969) and Elizabeth Augusta Peterson (1894-1947). His siblings included Oscar (1915-1915), Richard Eugene (1919-1990), Harvey John August (1916-1989), Dorwin Russell (1923-2013), Lloyd Albert (1925-2002), Albin Harold (1927-2001), Donald Oscar (1921-2013) and Harris Ivan (1935-2012).
Steele, Capt. Robert Coultas - Captain Steele was the pilot of a B-26C with the 8th Bomber Squadron, 3rd Bomber Wing based at Kunsan Air Force Base (K-8), Korea. On March 6, 1952, while on a night intruder mission, contact with aircraft was lost at target BA8911. He was listed as Missing in Action and was presumed dead on February 28, 1954. His remains were not recovered. He was from Wayne County, Michigan. Robert was born December 14, 1923, in Newton Falls, Ohio, the son of Ernest Lippincott Steele (1892-1981) and Thora Lucile Coultas Steele (1894-1979). His sibling was Dorothy J. Steele.
B-29s Collide - March 12, 1952 (Texas)
B-26 Disappearance, March 31, 1952 (North Korea)
C-124 Globemaster/C-47 Collision, April 04, 1952 (Alabama)
C-47/F-94B, Otis AFB, April 09, 1952 (Massachusetts)
B-26 Shoot-down, May 15, 1952 (Anju, North Korea)
An RB-26C Invader Bomber (tail number 44-35668) with the 12th Tactical Reconnaissance Squadron, 67th Tactical Reconnaissance Wing crashed on May 15, 1952. The crew was on a night photographic reconnaissance mission over Anju, North Korea, when their aircraft was hit by enemy fire. The crew reported damage and requested direction to the nearest friendly airfield. The plane never made it. Four F-86s and two RF-80s were sent on a search and rescue mission, but they were unsuccessful. Soviet records indicate that 44-35668 was shot down by a Russian 64IAK/35 and the plane crashed 10 kilometers southeast of Sensen, near Anju. One parachute was observed but the crew of two was listed as Missing in Action and was presumed dead on December 31, 1953.
Callan, Capt. Arthur Delbert (pilot)
Arthur was born March 19, 1917, in Rapid City, Pennington County, South Dakota, a son of Delbert O. Callan (died 1943) and Alda Corrine Larive Callan (1896-1969. He had three siblings and was married in 1944 in Maryland to Ruth Barney. Arthur and Ruth had three children: Caron Renee Callan (Klopping), Arthur Delbert Callan Jr., and Casey Clement Callan (born April 24, 1952, just days before his father became missing in action. He was a World War II and Korean War veteran, having served in the Air Force from 1941 to 1952. There is a memorial to Arthur in Black Hills National Cemetery.
Mouton, 1Lt. August Wilson (pilot)
August was born on August 23, 1918. He was a World War II veteran. The KWE believes (but has not confirmed) that he was the husband of Pauline Branstetter Mouton (1920-1946). Both were from Arkansas.
Six F9 Panther Jets, September 10, 1952 (Pohang)
C-46D Commando Transport Kangnung, Korea October 16, 1952
B-29 Loss, "Lubricating Lady", October 31, 1952
C-46 Crash, November 15, 1952 (sea near Kangnung)
Globemaster Crash, November 22, 1952 (Anchorage, Alaska)
C-54G Skymaster, November 28, 1952 (Tacoma, Washington)
C-47 Shoot-down, CIA mission, November 29, 1952 (Manchuria)
On November 29, 1952, a C-47 was shot down by ground fire over Manchuria, China. The crew of two, plus two passengers who were CIA operatives, were on a secret mission to rescue a spy from northeast China. The pilot was Norman A. Schwartz, a USMC World War II pilot who became a civilian pilot for the Civil Air Transport Company after the war. The C-47 was later secretly purchased by the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency.
Declassified documents show that the crew included Schwartz and co-pilot Robert Snoddy. The CIA agents were Richard G. Fecteau and Jack T. Downey. As the C-47 approached the snatch and pick-up site, no one onboard realized they were flying into a planned Chinese trap. Ground fire erupted, causing the plane to crash. When the plane was shot down, Schwartz and Snoddy died in the fiery crash. Fecteau and Downey thrown out of the plane and taken prisoners of war, remaining in captivity until 1971 and 1973, respectively.
The Chinese first denied any knowledge of the shoot-down, but In 2002 they allowed the United State Army’s Central Identification Laboratory to send researchers to China to dig up the wreckage. They were led to a burial site of two Americans by an elderly villager. Excavation found teeth and bone fragments belonging to Robert Snoddy. The researchers discovered that the remains of the two Americans had later been moved to a new burial site 500 yards north of the original one. In 2004 they found a Rolex watch belonging to Norman Schwartz.
For more details see Release #05-011, March 31, 2005, Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency. See also the following Central Intelligence Agency article that was written in detail by Nicholas Dujmovic.
All statements of fact, opinion, or analysis expressed in this article are those of the author. Nothing in the article should be construed as asserting or implying US government endorsement of an article’s factual statements and interpretations.
Two CIA Prisoners in China, 1952–73
Extraordinary Fidelity
Authored by Nicholas Dujmovic
Shot down on their first operational mission, Downey and Fecteau spent two decades in Chinese prisons.” This article draws extensively on operational files and other internal CIA records that of necessity remain classified. Because the true story of these two CIA officers is compelling and has been distorted in many public accounts, it is retold here in as much detail as possible, despite minimal source citations. Whenever possible, references to open sources are made in the footnotes.
* * *
Beijing’s capture, imprisonment, and eventual release of CIA officers John T. Downey and Richard G. Fecteau is an amazing story that too few know about today. Shot down over Communist China on their first operational mission in 1952, these young men spent the next two decades imprisoned, often in solitary confinement, while their government officially denied they were CIA officers. Fecteau was released in 1971, Downey in 1973. They came home to an America vastly different from the place they had left, but both adjusted surprisingly well and continue to live full lives.
Even though Downey and Fecteau were welcomed back as heroes by the CIA family more than 30 years ago and their story has been covered in open literature—albeit in short and generally flawed accounts— institutional memory regarding these brave officers has dimmed.[1] Their ordeal is not well known among today’s officers, judging by the surprise and wonder CIA historians encounter when relating it in internal lectures and training courses.
This story is important as a part of US intelligence history because it demonstrates the risks of operations (and the consequences of operational error), the qualities of character necessary to endure hardship, and the potential damage to reputations through the persistence of false stories about past events. Above all, the saga of John Downey and Richard Fecteau is about remarkable faithfulness, shown not only by the men who were deprived of their freedom, but also by an Agency that never gave up hope. While it was through operational misjudgments that these two spent much of their adulthood in Chinese prisons, the Agency, at least in part, redeemed itself through its later care for the men from whom years had been stolen.
John Downey and Richard Fecteau were youthful CIA paramilitary officers: Downey, born in Connecticut, had entered CIA in June 1951, after graduating from Yale; Fecteau, from Massachusetts, entered on duty a few months later, having graduated from Boston University. Both men had been varsity football players, and both were outgoing and engaging with noted senses of humor. They were on their first overseas assignment when the shootdown occurred.
By late 1952, the Korean War had been going on for more than two years. Accounts often identify that war as the reason for the operation Downey and Fecteau were participating in. While largely true, the flight the men were on was part of operations that had antecedents in the US response to the communist takeover of China in 1949. In accordance with US policies, CIA took steps to exploit the potential for a Chinese “Third Force” by trying to link Chinese agents, trained by CIA, with alleged dissident generals on the mainland. This Third Force, while anticommunist, would be separate from the Nationalists, who were assessed to be largely discredited on the mainland.[2]
This Third Force project received new emphasis after the Communist Chinese intervened in the Korean War. At that point, the project aimed to divert Chinese resources from the war in Korea by promoting domestic antigovernment guerrilla operations. This was to be accomplished by small teams of Chinese agents, generally inserted through airdrops, who were to link up with local guerrilla forces, collect intelligence and possibly engage in sabotage and psychological warfare, and report back by radio.[3] The operational model was the OSS experience in Europe during World War II, which assumed a cooperative captive population—a situation, as it turned out, that did not prevail in China.
By the time of Downey and Fecteau’s involvement in the Third Force program, its record was short and inauspicious. Because of resource constraints, the training of Chinese agents at CIA facilities in Asia was delayed, and the first Third Force team to be airdropped did not deploy until April 1952. This fourman team parachuted into southern China and was never heard from again.
The second Third Force team comprised five ethnic Chinese dropped into the Jilin region of Manchuria in midJuly 1952. Downey was well known to the Chinese operatives on this team because he had trained them. The team quickly established radio contact with Downey’s CIA unit outside of China and was resupplied by air in August and October. A sixth team member, intended as a courier between the team and the controlling CIA unit, was dropped in September. In early November, the team reported contact with a local dissident leader and said it had obtained needed operational documents such as official credentials. They requested airexfiltration of the courier, a method he had trained for but that the CIA had never attempted operationally.
At that time, the technique for aerial pickup involved flying an aircraft at low altitude and hooking a line elevated between two poles. The line was connected to a harness in which the agent was strapped. Once airborne, the man was to be winched into the aircraft. This technique required specialized training, both for the pilots of the aircraft, provided by the CIA’s proprietary Civil Air Transport (CAT), and for the two men who would operate the winch. Pilots Norman Schwartz and Robert Snoddy had trained in the aerial pickup technique during the fall of 1952 and were willing to undertake the mission. On 20 November, Downey’s CIA unit radioed back to the team: “Will air snatch approximately 2400 hours” on 29 November.[4]
The question of who would operate the winch, however, was still unresolved. Originally, Chinese crewmen were to be used, but Downey’s unit chief decided that time was too short to fully train them. Instead, two CAT personnel trained in the procedure were identified for the pickup flight, but the CIA unit chief pulled them four days before the mission because they lacked the requisite clearances. Downey, who had been at the unit for about a year, and Fecteau, who had arrived in the first week of November, were directed to fill the breach. They were hurriedly trained in the procedure during the week of 24 November.
Late on 29 November, Downey and Fecteau boarded Schwartz and Snoddy’s olive drab C47 on an airfield on the Korean peninsula and took off for the rendezvous point in Chinese Communist Manchuria, some 400 miles away. It was a quiet, uneventful flight of less than three hours. The moon was nearly full and visibility was excellent. At one point, Fecteau opened a survival kit and noted that the .32caliber pistol therein had no ammunition—joking about that was the only conversation the men had on the flight.
The C47, with its CAT pilots and CIA crew, was heading for a trap. The agent team, unbeknownst to the men on the flight, had been captured by Communist Chinese security forces and had been turned.[5] The request for exfiltration was a ruse, and the promised documentation and purported contact with a local dissident leader were merely bait. The team members almost certainly had told Chinese authorities everything they knew about the operation and about the CIA men and facilities associated with it. From the way the ambush was conducted, it was clear that the Chinese Communists knew exactly what to expect when the C47 arrived at the pickup point.[6]
Reaching the designated area around midnight, the aircraft received the proper recognition signal from the ground.[7] Downey and Fecteau pushed out supplies for the agent team—food and equipment needed for the aerial pickup. Then Schwartz and Snoddy flew the aircraft away from the area to allow the team time to set up the poles and line for the “snatch.” Returning about 45 minutes later and receiving a ready signal, the C47 flew a dry run by the pickup point, which served both to orient the pilots and to alert the man being exfiltrated that the next pass would be for him. Copilot Snoddy came back momentarily to the rear of the aircraft to make sure Downey and Fecteau were ready. On the moonlit landscape, four or five people could be seen on the ground. One man was in the pickup harness, facing the path of the aircraft.
As the C47 came in low for the pickup, flying nearly at its stall speed of around 60 knots, white sheets that had been camouflaging two antiaircraft guns on the snowy terrain flew off and gunfire erupted at the very moment the pickup was to have been made. The guns, straddling the flight path, began a murderous crossfire. At this point, a crowd of men emerged from the woods.[8] Whether by reflex or purposefully, the pilots directed the aircraft’s nose up, preventing an immediate crash; however, the engines cut out and the aircraft glided to a controlled crash among some trees, breaking in two with the nose in the air.
Downey and Fecteau had been secured to the aircraft with harnesses to keep them from falling out during the winching. On impact, both slid along the floor of the aircraft, cushioned somewhat by their heavy winter clothing. Fecteau’s harness broke, causing him to crash into the bulkhead separating the main body of the aircraft from the cockpit, which, he later said, gave him a bump on his head “you could hang your coat on.”
Other than suffering bruises and being shaken up, Downey and Fecteau were extremely fortunate in being unhurt. The Chinese apparently had targeted the cockpit, with gunfire passing through the floor in the forward part of the aircraft but stopping short of where Downey and Fecteau had been stationed, although one bullet singed Downey’s cheek. Meanwhile, tracer bullets had ignited the fuel. Both men tried to get to the cockpit to check on the pilots, who were not answering Downey’s shouts, but their part of the aircraft was burning fiercely and the two had to move away. Whether due to gunfire, the impact, or the fire, the pilots died at the scene.[9] Fecteau later remembered standing outside the aircraft with Downey, both stunned but conscious, telling each other that they were “in a hell of a mess.” The Chinese security forces descended on them, “whooping and hollering,” and they gave themselves up to the inevitable.
Over the years, various explanations arose within CIA to explain Downey and Fecteau’s participation in the ill-fated mission. It seemed incredible to operations officers that two CIA employees, familiar with operations, locations, and personnel, would be sent on a mission that exposed them to possible capture by the Chinese Communists. One of the most persistent myths was that the two must have been joyriding because their participation was, it was thought, a violation of the rules. In fact, the record shows that they were directed to be on the flight and that they had received specialized training in preparation for it. It may have been poor judgment on the part of Downey and Fecteau’s boss, the CIA unit chief—who in fixing a tactical problem (the lack of security clearances by aircraft personnel) created a strategic vulnerability—and certainly it appears so in hindsight. In any case, it was only after the shootdown that the rules were changed so that no CIA officer would fly over the Chinese mainland.[10]
In addition to the field shortcomings in assigning Downey and Fecteau to the fatal mission, there is the question of whether the field ignored warnings that the deployed team had been turned by the communists. Such is the claim of a former senior operations officer who, as a young man, had served in Downey and Fecteau’s unit in 1952. This officer asserts that, in the summer before the November flight, an analysis of two messages sent by the team made it “90 percent” certain, in his view, that the team had been doubled. Bringing his concerns to the attention of the unit chief, the officer was rebuffed for lack of further evidence. When he persisted, he was transferred to another CIA unit. After Downey and Fecteau’s flight failed to return, the unit chief called the officer back and told him not to talk about the matter, and he followed instructions—much to his later regret.
No record of an inquiry into the decision to send Downey and Fecteau on the flight appears to exist. It is clear that no one was ever disciplined for it, probably because it was a wartime decision in the field. Moreover, it could be argued that the success of the August and October missions to resupply the team indicated that the team had not been doubled. Many years later, Downey told a debriefer that he felt no bitterness toward the man who sent him on the mission: “I felt for him. It turned out to be such a goddamned disaster from his point of view.”
The Chinese security forces treated Downey and Fecteau roughly as they tied them up. The prisoners were taken to a building in a nearby village—possibly a police station in Antu, which was near the pickup point. There it became clear that the agent team had talked: Across the room, Downey saw the courier they were to pick up looking at him and nodding to a Chinese security officer, a man of some authority with his leather jacket and pistol, who pointed at Downey and said, in English, “You are Jack.” Fecteau remembers being told, “Your future is very dark.” The man took their names. Fecteau gave his full name, Richard George Fecteau, to warn off potential rescuers if the Chinese sent out a false message from him and Downey. The two CIA officers, with a dozen armed guards, were then taken by truck and train to a prison in Mukden (Shenyang), the largest city in Manchuria, almost 300 miles away. In Mukden, they were shackled with heavy leg irons and isolated in separate cells.
Several hours after the scheduled time of pickup, the CIA field unit received a message from the agent team, reporting that the snatch had been successful. However, when the C47 was overdue for its return on the morning of 30 November 1952, CIA worked with Civil Air Transport to concoct a cover story—a CAT aircraft on a commercial flight from Korea to Japan on 3 December was missing and, as of 4 December, was presumed lost in the Sea of Japan. Downey and Fecteau were identified as Department of the Army civilian employees. Meanwhile, the US military conducted an intensive search of accessible sea and land routes, with negative results. Director of Central Intelligence (DCI) Walter Bedell Smith signed letters of condolence to the men’s families, saying “I have learned that [your son/your husband] was a passenger on a commercial plane flight between South Korea and Japan which is now overdue and that there is grave fear that he may have been lost.”
By mid-December, CIA had made the official determination that the men were missing in action; however, within the Agency’s Far East Division, the strong feeling was that Downey and Fecteau, as well as the pilots, were dead at the scene of the intended pickup. With nothing other than the conviction that the Chinese Communists would have made propaganda use of the CIA men had either remained alive, the Agency declared Downey and Fecteau “presumed dead” on 4 December 1953. Letters to that effect were sent to the families under the signature of DCI Allen Dulles.[11]
Meanwhile, of course, the men were very much alive, a fact known only to their captors. Separated in Mukden, Downey and Fecteau would not see each other for two years. The interrogations began, with sessions usually lasting for four hours, but some as long as 24 hours straight. Sleep deprivation was part of the game: The men were prohibited from sleeping during the day and the Chinese would invariably haul them off for middleofthenight interrogations after a half hour’s sleep. An important element of the Chinese technique was to tell Downey and Fecteau that no one knew they were alive and that no one would ever know until the Chinese decided to announce the fact—if they ever decided to do so. At the same time, the men were told that the US government was evil and did not care about them and that they should forget their families. Downey later said, “I was extremely scared…. We were isolated and had no idea of what was going to happen to us and had no idea of what was going on in the world.”
During the first two years of their captivity, while no one outside of China knew their fate, the men were subjected to enormous pressure to confess that they were CIA spies, repent of their “crimes,” and tell everything they knew about CIA personnel, operations, and locations. The deck was stacked because the Chinese authorities already knew much from this Third Force agent team and from others they had caught. Downey and Fecteau’s training had covered subjects like “Resistance” and “Police Methods,” but it was inadequate for this dilemma. Fecteau, in fact, lamented the lack of relevant training: “We had none, and it really hurt me. I had to play it by ear as I went along, and I was never sure whether I was right or wrong.” He even remembered being told in training that, “if you are captured by the communists, you might as well tell them what you know because they are going to get it from you anyway.” Downey, similarly, had been told by an instructor, “If you are captured, you’ll talk.” It certainly did not help that the men knew so much—Downey was intimately familiar with Third Force operations from his experience over the previous year; Fecteau had been in the field for only three weeks but had carried out his supervisor’s order to familiarize himself with the program by reading the operational files for two or three hours every day.
Both men initially tried to stick to their cover story. Unfortunately, both were told before the flight to say they were CAT employees, which was at variance with the official cover story that they were US Army civilians on a commercial flight. Their Chinese interrogators caught them out and made subsequent interrogations more intensive and confrontational.
The men were never tortured physically or, after their initial capture, beaten.[12] Fecteau reported that he wore leg irons constantly for the first 10 months and that he was made to stand during interrogations to the point of falling down from exhaustion, especially after being caught lying or bluffing. Downey remembered the leg irons and the intense psychological pressure of interrogations, plus the added mental stress from concocting new stories after the cover story evaporated—as he later acknowledged, telling lies requires an extraordinarily good memory.
Eventually both men—isolated from each other, battered psychologically, threatened with torture and execution—talked, albeit divulging varying degrees of truth. Downey, hemmed in by the disclosures of the team he had trained, confessed his CIA affiliation on the 16th day. He later recalled that telling what he knew was liberating: “I’m free and they have got to leave me in peace, and thus relieve the psychological strain of resisting…. [They] can’t come at me anymore mentally because it is all out there.”
Fecteau, who was unknown to the captured Chinese assets, had an easier situation to manage:
"The story I decided to stick to, I decided to keep it as simple as possible, was to tell them only what I needed to know to be where I was. I decided to add nothing else. I decided to shorten my length of service with the Agency from November 1951 [and] changed that to June 1952, to give me only five months in the Agency [to] make it much easier to explain to the interrogators. I thus cut out a lot of the training I had taken, cut down on the number of names they would ask of people I had met within the Agency and so forth. I based it all on “need to know,” only what I needed to know to be where I was.
They kept asking for names, names, names. I decided that all Agency names except classmates [from training], I would tell them only first names and I stuck with that all the way, instructors, people in Washington, all first names only. As to personnel [in the field], I told them that I had only been there three weeks and I only knew first names there also…. On the names of classmates I knew they would ask not only the names but character descriptions, physical descriptions. I then decided to give the names of my fellow teammates on the Boston University football team [to] be able to give them very good character descriptions."
Fecteau made his “cover confession” on the 13th day, after thinking it through the previous night. This technique of Fecteau’s— which Downey almost certainly could not have employed without tripping up against what the Chinese already knew—enabled Fecteau to withhold information safely for his entire imprisonment, and it turned out to be a huge morale boost: “The thing that sustained me most through the 19 years was the fact that I didn’t tell them everything I had known. Whenever I felt depressed, this was the greatest help to me.” Even so, both men, but especially Downey, were plagued by feelings of guilt for the information they had given up.[13]
After their first five months in Mukden, the men were moved to a prison in Beijing. They were still isolated and in irons, still undergoing interrogations, still each in a small cell illuminated by a single bulb, with a straw mattress. Fecteau remembers being told to sit on the floor and stare at a black dot on the wall and think about his crimes. For five months after the move to Beijing, he was not allowed a bath. His weight dropped by 70 pounds; Downey lost 30 pounds.[14]
Two years after their capture, the men saw each other for the first time since the shootdown. They were put on trial together in a secret military proceeding, the authorities apparently having been satisfied with the take from the interrogations. Fecteau remembers being marched into the courtroom and told to stand by Downey, who looked despondent and who was dressed in a new prison suit. To cheer Downey as he stood next to him, Fecteau whispered, “Who’s your tailor?” Downey smiled thinly. Such humor in the face of adversity was needed, for the military tribunal convicted Downey, the “Chief Culprit,” and Fecteau, the “Assistant Chief Culprit,” of espionage. Downey received life imprisonment; Fecteau, 20 years. Downey’s immediate reaction was relief, as he had assumed he would be executed. Fecteau could not imagine even 10 years in prison, but he felt sorrier for Downey than for himself. When Fecteau remarked, “My wife is going to die childless,” Downey broke into laughter, angering the guards.
That day, 23 November 1954, almost a year after the CIA had pronounced Downey and Fecteau “presumed dead,” Beijing declared them alive, in custody, and serving their sentences as convicted CIA spies. The first that the Agency learned of it was through a New China News Agency broadcast. At the same time, the Chinese announced the sentencing, also for espionage, of the officers and crew of a US Air Force B29 aircraft, shot down over China some weeks after Downey and Fecteau’s C47 flight.
The Agency quickly assembled an ad hoc committee under Richard M. Bissell Jr., then a special assistant to the DCI. Bissell’s committee accepted the Chinese declaration as true and changed the men’s status from “presumed dead” to “missing in action.” Further, the committee decided to backstop the cover story that Downey and Fecteau were Army civilians traveling as passengers on a contract aircraft between Korea and Japan; this required coordination with the Pentagon and dealing with some two dozen persons outside the government who were aware of the CIA affiliation of either Downey or Fecteau: family members, officials of three insurance companies, two banks, several lawyers, and the executor of an estate. Despite the potential for leaks, the true status of the two men was kept secret by authoritative sources for many years, and there was no deviation from the cover story for two decades.
Contrary to the public histories that claim the CIA “abandoned” the men during their captivity, the Agency continually argued for official US efforts to induce the Chinese to free them and monitored such efforts on the part of the State Department and other agencies.[15] As soon as it was known that the men were alive in late 1954, Bissell proposed that the US government put pressure—diplomatic and covert—on Beijing to free the men. Bissell was authorized to convene a working group to study the problem, but his proposal went nowhere. Other US agencies were against forceful action against China; at least one based its opposition on the assessment that Beijing had a good case in international law against Downey and Fecteau.[16]
Throughout the years of the men’s imprisonment, senior CIA officers met periodically to discuss the case with counterparts at the State Department and the Pentagon. During discussions in 1955 of a general release of military prisoners associated with Korean War operations, the Agency was rebuffed within the US government in its attempts to include Downey and Fecteau in such a release, despite strong and high-level CIA representations that the CIA prisoners should be treated in the same way as US military personnel shot down and captured by the Chinese.
The rationale given for separating the two categories was that if the same line were adopted for military and civilian personnel, Beijing might then deny the prisoner of war status of the former, and all would remain in captivity. Thus, Washington took the case of its military personnel to the UN General Assembly but did not include Downey and Fecteau in its demand for release.
CIA was alone in the US government in pressing the issue. China released US military prisoners in 1955 but continued to maintain that Downey and Fecteau were on a mission unrelated to the Korean War. And, despite protests from CIA, official Washington kept up the fiction that they were Army civilians whose flight strayed into Chinese airspace. For the next 15 years, US diplomats would bring up the matter during talks with Chinese counterparts in Geneva and Warsaw, but US policy that there would be no bargaining, no concessions, and no recognition of the Communist Chinese government prevented movement.
There may be some among us who can imagine 20 days in captivity; perhaps a fraction of those can imagine a full year deprived of liberty and most human contact. But 20 years? Downey and Fecteau have consistently sought to downplay their period of imprisonment; and neither has done what arguably too many former CIA officers do these days with far less justification: write a book. Downey has said that such a book would contain “500 blank pages,” and Fecteau says the whole experience could be summed up by the word “boring.”[17]
No doubt boredom was among their greatest enemies, but of course the men are downplaying a significant ordeal. What we know is that living conditions in the first few years were harsh, improving after their trials to spartan. Their sparsely furnished, small cells were generally cold and drafty and allowed for little external stimuli—the windows were whitewashed and a dim light bulb burned constantly. Food was simple—almost exclusively rice, vegetables, and bread, with perhaps some meat on holidays. Both spent stretches in solitary confinement that went on for years—one span was six years. While the most intense questioning ended with their trial and sentencing in late 1954, both were subjected throughout to verbal insults and psychological abuse, particularly of a kind that Fecteau called “the whipsaw”: their captors would improve conditions—providing better food, access to books and magazines, or a luxury such as soap—only to take them away.
Worst of all were the hints at early releases. In 1955, for example, Downey and Fecteau were placed together in a large cell housing the Air Force officers and crew of the downed B29. For three weeks, the group of Americans lived together, with little supervision and expanded privileges. The Chinese allowed the CIA men to believe they would be released with the Air Force group. Then, as Downey recalls, “the axe fell,” and he and Fecteau were suddenly removed into solitary confinement.
Both men learned that complaining was usually counterproductive. Once, when Fecteau said the tomatoes in his food gave him indigestion, all he saw for three weeks was tomatoes—green tomatoes. After that, whenever he was asked, “How is the food?” Fecteau would always respond with “adequate.”[18] If he complained that there was not enough water for his weekly bath, there would be less water next time. Likewise, the men learned not to request medical treatment until a condition was serious enough to draw attention to it.
Even if Downey and Fecteau do not consider their long captivity suitable for literary treatment, there is great value for today’s intelligence officers in how they played the bad hand dealt to them. The men’s reflections on their imprisonment—generally made shortly after their release, when impressions were freshest—provide a series of “lessons learned” that could be relevant to others facing long captivity.
Downey and Fecteau affirmed that they always believed that CIA and the US government were doing everything they could and that eventually they would be released. Both rejected Chinese assertions that they had been abandoned, that no one cared what happened to them. Fecteau, in fact, reasoned that he could never forget he was an American and an Agency man— his captors threw it in his face so often that he never lost his sense of identity and affiliation. Suicide was never contemplated by either man.
While never losing the strategic conviction that they would return home, the men learned to be wary, on a tactical level, of developments that were too good to be true. Between periods of solitary confinement, for example, they often had one or two Chinese cellmates. If either Downey or Fecteau appeared to be getting on well with a Chinese prisoner, the American might find himself suddenly in solitary for a year. After one such “whipsaw,” Fecteau was asked by a guard: “Are you lonely now?” So the men disciplined themselves to lower expectations, to the point that when Fecteau was taken to the Hong Kong border in December 1971, he made himself assume that the release he had been promised was another “whipsaw,” until he actually crossed the bridge. Likewise, when Downey was told in 1973 that he was being released, he responded with indifference, saying he wanted to finish the televised ping-pong match he was watching. He recalls, “I had a tight rein on my expectations.”
Both men said that it was essential to busy themselves with a daily schedule, no matter how mundane each task might be. The prison environment, of course, mandated a certain routine, but within that general outline, as Downey put it, one could organize “a very full program every day.”
"I had my day very tightly scheduled—and if I missed some of my own self-appointed appointments, I’d feel uneasy. As a result, the days really moved along. Whereas if you just sit there and think about home, feeling sorry for yourself, then time can really drag."
Downey would leap out of bed at the prison’s morning whistle to begin a day that involved calisthenics, cleaning his cell, meals, reading and studying, listening to the radio, and “free time” with letters, books and magazines from home.[19] Fecteau developed a similar routine but varied it by the day of the week, later saying, “the weeks seemed long but the months went fast.” The Chinese occasionally allowed them periodicals like the New Yorker and Sports Illustrated. In addition, prayer and Bible study, as well as learning Chinese and Russian, composed a big part of Downey’s day. Ironically, CIA had assessed Downey in 1951 as disliking both being indoors and keeping to a fixed schedule.
Both men credit exercise—pushups, sit-ups, chin-ups, jogging, and other calisthenics for as long as two or three hours every day—as vital to coping with the inactivity of imprisonment. Fecteau commented:
"I found that, although sometimes it was very difficult to make myself do it, it was a great help to my morale, especially if I was depressed. If I got up, pushed myself to do exercises, it would make a tremendous difference in my spirit. It also made me feel better, made me sleep better, but it was a lot more than just physical [benefit]. The effect on my mental outlook, what I thought of at the time as toughening my mind, was just tremendous."
It is clear that an important coping mechanism was each man’s ability to fence off a part of his mind, deriving psychological benefit from keeping its very existence secret from the captors. Not only did Fecteau get a morale boost from being able to manufacture a consistent “cover confession,” he also kept in his mind the thought that, as an American and a CIA officer, he was in competition with the guard, the prison, and the Chinese regime. That helped his self-discipline in not shouting or complaining but enduring in silence. Both men reported that they enjoyed telling their captors the opposite of what they were thinking.
Both men used their imaginations to good effect. Downey enjoyed thinking, especially in the presence of an interrogator, guard, or prison official, about how his salary was accumulating—he knew that his $4,000ayear salary was something none of his captors would ever see. Fecteau said he taught himself to become “an expert daydreamer”:
"I remembered every kid in my sixth grade class and where each one sat. I pictured myself leaving my house in Lynn and driving to Gloucester and every sight I’d see on the way…I could lose four hours just like that."
Fecteau also developed in his mind complex stories involving made-up characters—a boxer, a baseball player, a football player, an actor, and a songwriter—that became for him almost like watching a movie. As his imaginative skill increased, he could even mentally change “reels.”
In 1952, rumors of Chinese “brainwashing” were rampant because of the behavior of returned US prisoners from Chinese custody during the Korean War.[20] It is not surprising, then, that both Downey and Fecteau were fearful, particularly in the early years, that they would be turned into ideological zombies or traitors to the United States. Their concerns were heightened by Chinese rhetoric that they must show true repentance and remold their thinking. While they were allowed noncommunist reading materials, from about 1959 to 1969, they were required to participate in daily study and discussions of the works of Marx, Lenin, and Mao; the Communist Party platforms; and the like. Downey, at first, was agitated by this, but he did not resist, thinking that he could fake enough ideological reform to be granted a pardon when the 10th anniversary of their capture came along in 1962—in retrospect, a vain hope. In any case, he found that he had worried too much:
"One of the things that relaxed me was the eventual discovery that you cannot really be brainwashed…. There are some things they can’t change [and] basically I came out about the same as I went in…. They could scare you into saying just about anything, maybe scare me, I should say, but actually believing it is a much more difficult proposition."
Likewise, Fecteau observed that “they couldn’t wash my brains or change my thinking unless I changed.”
Both men recognized at least three benefits from the study sessions: They helped structure the days and pass the time; they provided human interaction, however stilted and contrived; and they gave insights into communist thinking and Chinese culture. As Fecteau put it:
“I began to understand how they thought and what they meant when they said this or that to me. So then I began to look at the studies a bit differently [as] an opportunity to study them and to understand them.”
Although Downey and Fecteau saw each other infrequently during the two decades, they developed a communications system. In the first years, they used distinctive coughs to track each other’s whereabouts, or wrote words or sports scores in the dust where the other man would see it. Later, they found ways to deliver notes and also used sotto voce comments when possible.[21] They were always in the same prison, and not far from each other, which kept their spirits up more than if they had been imprisoned in separate cities.
Even through the years of solitary confinement, each man drew comfort from the thought of his nearby comrade. When Fecteau was told of his impending release, his first question was whether Downey would be coming out, too. After release, Fecteau spurned lucrative offers to tell his story publicly because of the impact it might have on Downey’s fate. To this day, the men remain close friends.
In recruiting Downey and Fecteau, CIA had noted that each man had a well-developed sense of humor. This quality, far more than any particular training, helped sustain them. There was little in their situation that made for flippancy, but they were able to see the humor in the incongruous and the absurd. Downey, the more serious of the two, was amused at the about-face required in his study sessions, when he was expounding the Soviet line about Albania before he became aware that the new Chinese line was anti-Soviet! Fecteau reflected for long periods on humorous stories he would hear from cellmates: about the man jailed for fortune telling who produced a pack of cards in his cell, or the man ridiculed by his cellmates for believing that the world rested on the back of huge turtle. He was amused by a book he was given, written by an Australian communist, that glowingly described Chinese prison conditions quite at variance with his own experience.
Because of insufficient training, both men acknowledged it took several years to develop effective coping strategies. At the beginning, each thought he was going crazy. Fecteau says he started to have “mental aberrations”:
“The walls started moving in on me. I would put my foot out in front of me and measure the distance to be sure the wall wasn’t really moving.”
Downey, besides being “extremely scared,” was frustrated to the point of despair, seeing every day in prison as a day robbed from him. As the men learned how to deal with their fate, it became easier. Fecteau did not have a vivid imagination at first, but he developed one as a skill. Downey maintained that, had he been released after only five years, he would have come out in far worse shape than he did after 20 years.
It was the exemplary manner in which CIA headquarters handled Downey’s and Fecteau’s affairs that partially redeems the disaster that led to their predicament. Once the Chinese had broken the news that the two were alive, the Agency quickly restored them to the active payroll. DCI Dulles had them moved administratively from the Far East Division to a special list maintained by the Office of Personnel (OP). OP officer George Cary handled their affairs until 1957; thereafter, it was Ben DeFelice.
Although no precedent existed for administering the affairs of civilian federal employees subjected to lengthy foreign imprisonment, OP creatively applied existing law in managing the three primary areas: pay and allotments, promotions, and maintenance of accrued funds. In addition, OP representatives took on the delicate matter of dealing with the men’s families. In making decisions on behalf of Downey and Fecteau, OP drew guidance from the Missing Persons Act of 1942—intended for military MIAs—and subsequent Agency regulations.
Pay was the easiest area to address. Keeping the men’s pay accounts in a current status would allow both the accrual of pay and the immediate payment of funds upon their release. OP also ensured that the men received separation allowances and post differentials, which were applied retroactively and carried for the entire period of their imprisonment in recognition of the “excessively adverse” conditions of the two men’s “foreign assignment.” Deductions were made for federal income taxes and held in escrow until such time as the men could file.
In 1958, when it looked as though the men would not be released for a long time, DCI Dulles approved an OP plan to promote them from GS7 to GS11, with a schedule of interim promotions and step increases applied in a graduated, retroactive manner over the previous five years. Once their ranks were in line with their contemporaries, Agency officials ensured regular promotions and step increases as if they had continued unimpeded in their careers. Eventually the Director of Personnel determined that Downey and Fecteau should be promoted to the journeyman level during their imprisonment, which was set at GS13; then one grade was added to help compensate for the deprivations of captivity. So the terminal rank for the two was established at GS14, to which both were promoted in 1971, just before Fecteau’s release. Both men, after their release, were startled to learn of the promotions and that they were earning some $22,000 per year—they were still thinking in terms of their 1952 GS7 salaries of just over $4,000.
Of bigger concern to OP was handling the accrued funds responsibly. DeFelice later outlined his philosophy: “We couldn’t give them [back] their years of imprisonment, but we could at least assure financial security for their future.” Doing so required considerable ingenuity. The accrued funds were initially invested in Series E savings bonds, but the sums soon passed the $10,000 annual ceiling. From 1960 to 1963, the funds were invested in savings accounts under pseudonyms, but this had to be abandoned when the Internal Revenue Service started requiring banks to report interest income to depositors. Then, for about a year, the Agency simply credited the accounts with interest payments at the prevailing bank rate. Finally, in late 1964, OP got DCI John McCone to approve investing the funds through a covert proprietary company. When Fecteau was released in 1971, his accumulated account came to almost $140,000; Downey’s in 1973 came to more than $170,000. Each figure represented a nest egg of about seven times each man’s annual salary as a GS14 at the time.
Taking care of the families also required imaginative management. Downey and Fecteau were allowed monthly packages from family, which they relied on for morale and physical health—the food and vitamin supplements augmented their sparse diet. While Downey’s mother could afford the cost of these packages, it was a financial hardship for Fecteau’s parents. Legally, the Agency could not simply give them the money to pay for the packages. Beginning in 1959, DeFelice’s creative solution was to have the Agency apply an “equalization allowance” to the men’s pay—typically used to offset the excess cost of living at a duty post; it was a stretch to apply this to life in a Chinese cell. This amount—several hundred dollars per year—was passed along to the families by allotment. It was made retroactive to the date of their capture.
Allotments for the families were authorized based on the presumption of the men’s wishes. Educational expenses for Fecteau’s twin daughters from his first marriage, for example, were covered by allotments from his pay account. When CIA representatives visited Fecteau’s parents and saw their modest standard of living based on a fixed retirement income, allotments to them from Fecteau’s pay account were increased, based on the assumption that Fecteau would have so decided.
The Agency also helped family members with the several trips they made to visit the prisoners, starting in 1958 when both mothers and Downey’s brother went. CIA could do nothing officially to facilitate the trips because diplomatic relations did not exist with the People’s Republic of China and US policy required the prisoners’ CIA affiliation to be concealed. The Agency gave the travelers briefings on what to expect—with regard to the communist authorities and the prisoners’ likely attitudes—and what topics and behavior to avoid. Because such trips were beyond the means of the families—and to keep the prisoners’ accounts from being depleted—DCI Dulles authorized the disbursement of Agency funds to the families through intermediaries for travel expenses.[22]
As the Agency’s point of contact for the families, Ben DeFelice held thousands of phone conversations over the years, especially with Downey’s mother. Mary Downey was strong willed and capable of lecturing the most senior government officials in every administration from Eisenhower to Nixon on the need for the United States to do more to free her son. DeFelice reported he talked to Mary Downey at least weekly, for up to several hours at a time. Costs of the calls were always borne by the Agency. DeFelice and other OP officials also wrote hundreds of letters and made dozens of visits to family members over the years.
In the end, of course, this tragic tale becomes a happy one, with the men restored to freedom and the Agency continuing its extraordinary efforts to see these extraordinary men into ordinary retirement. Fecteau’s release in December 1971, and Downey’s 15 months later, came about in the context of the warming of relations between the United States and China. In particular, 1971 was the year of “ping pong diplomacy,” the lifting of US trade restrictions, National Security Adviser Henry Kissinger’s secret mission to Beijing, and the seating of the People’s Republic of China at the UN. That fall, the two captives were taken to a Beijing department store—for the first time—for new clothing, including overcoats. Fecteau remarked to Downey that “either we are on our way out or we are going to stay in for another 20 years.”
On 9 December 1971, Fecteau was summoned to a tribunal, which informed him of his impending release. Asking about Downey, Fecteau was told that Downey’s case was more serious and that he would not be going. Fecteau was allowed to leave some of his belongings for Downey, but because a guard stood all the while in front of Downey’s cell, Fecteau could not communicate with him. After a train trip to Canton, Fecteau found himself walking across the LoWu bridge to Hong Kong. A British army officer gave him a cigarette and a beer, which he described as “incredible.” Fecteau had served 19 years and 14 days of his 20-year sentence.
The CIA evacuation plan, which had existed since 1955, was put in motion and soon Fecteau was being examined at Valley Forge Military Hospital. His physical condition astounded the doctors,[23] but his demeanor was extremely reserved—not used to interacting with people, he spoke in a low voice only when spoken to and preferred to have decisions made for him. Within days, however, he began opening up and taking charge of his new life, and soon he was back at work giving interviews on his experience. Worried about Downey, Fecteau was careful to say in public that he harbored no bitterness toward the Chinese people or their government.
At the time of Fecteau’s release, Beijing announced that Downey’s sentence had been reduced from life imprisonment to five years from that date—a bitter disappointment both to the Agency and to the Downey family, particularly his mother, by then in her seventies and in failing health. Despite the highlevel talks and interventions, it was her severe stroke in early March 1973 that accomplished her son’s release. President Nixon’s appeal to Beijing on humanitarian grounds—together with his admission the previous month in a press conference that Downey was a CIA employee—led to his freedom after 20 years, 3 months, and 14 days in prison. He crossed the border into Hong Kong on 12 March, noting that the salute he received from a British soldier at his crossing was the first act of dignity shown him in 20 years. He arrived at his mother’s bedside the next day. Recovered enough to recognize her son, Mary Downey admonished him: “You’re a celebrity now, don’t let it go to your head.”
Both men came home in good physical and mental shape, free of grudges, surprised at their GS14 rank and accumulated pay, stunned by changes in the American landscape and culture, and grateful for what the Agency had done with their affairs. Both were restored to CIA’s East Asia Division as operations officers and underwent a series of debriefings.[24] Each received the Distinguished Intelligence Medal for “courageous performance” in enduring “sufferings and deprivations, measured in decades, with fortitude [and an] unshakable will to survive and with a preserving faith in his country.” Fecteau also was awarded the Intelligence Medal of Merit for his conduct following his release, when, in order to protect Downey’s chances for release, he refused lucrative offers from the media and publishers to tell his story.
Both men, understandably, were interested in qualifying for retirement, but even with all their years in prison, they were short of the necessary 25 years. To make up the deficit, DeFelice made sure that both received all the annual leave they had accumulated over two decades—90 percent of which had technically been forfeited but was now restored. OP also helped the men gain all the creditable government service due them—both had worked temporary jobs with the post office in the 1940s, and Fecteau had served in the Merchant Marine for a year. The final trick up DeFelice’s sleeve was his initiative, following the Pentagon’s example with its returning military POWs, to add one year’s “convalescent leave” to each man’s accumulated sick leave. This allowed Downey and Fecteau to attend to their own affairs while drawing full CIA salaries for some time after coming home. Downey used the time to go to Harvard Law School, and Fecteau worked on home projects, took care of his parents, and sought work as a probation officer. Fecteau qualified for retirement in 1976; Downey, in 1977.[25]
Richard Fecteau and John Downey have lived up to their desire to focus on the future and not dwell on the past. They have refused to make careers out of their experience and instead have lived full lives since returning to America:
•Downey became a respected judge in Connecticut, specializing in juvenile matters. Now retired, he continues to take on cases as needed, working three or four days a week. The Judge John T. Downey Courthouse in New Haven is named for him. He married in 1975; his Chinese-American wife, Audrey, was born in Manchuria not far from where the plane was shot down. They have an adult son.
•Fecteau returned to his alma mater, Boston University, as assistant athletic director, retiring in 1989. He reconnected with his adult daughters, who were two years old when he was shot down, and he remarried his first wife, who had kept him in her prayers while he was in prison.
Both have maintained friendships with former colleagues and retain their sense of Agency affiliation.
DCI George Tenet brought Downey and Fecteau back to the CIA in 1998, 25 years after Downey’s release, to present them with the Director’s Medal. Their story, Tenet declared, “is one of the most remarkable in the history of the Central Intelligence Agency.” On the occasion, Fecteau affirmed “This is still my outfit and always will be,” and Downey declared “I am proud to be one of you.” Tenet spoke of their “extraordinary fidelity”—words also inscribed on their medals— and told them: “Like it or not, you are our heroes.” Downey, speaking for himself and for Fecteau, replied: “We’re at the age where, if you want to call us heroes, we’re not going to argue anymore, [but] we know better.”
John Downey, 22 when he began his captivity and almost 43 when released, is now 76. Richard Fecteau, 25 when shot down and 44 on his return, will be 80 next August. Their story, and the lessons we derive from it, will long outlive them. Their experience in China teaches many things: the importance of good decisions in the field and the costs of bad ones; the ability of men to say “it’s not over” when life seems to be at an end; the resilience to get through a bad day—7,000 times in a row; and the strength gained from faith that one is still cared about. But their experience back home is also inspirational, for it teaches us that perhaps the most enduring lesson of all is the absolute necessity of making every day lived in freedom count.
[1] Downey’s and Fecteau’s CIA affiliation was revealed as early as 1957 by a disgruntled former USIA official and by early exposés of the Agency, such as David Wise and Thomas Ross, The Invisible Government (New York: Random House, 1964). Later brief treatments can be found in William Colby and Peter Forbath, Honorable Men: My Life in the CIA (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1978), in which former Director of Central Intelligence Colby identifies Downey and Fecteau as “CIA agents”; John Ranelagh, The Agency: The Rise and Decline of the CIA (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1986); William Leary, Perilous Missions: Civil Air Transport and CIA Covert Operations in Asia (University of Alabama Press, 1984); Norman Polmar and Thomas Allen, The Encyclopedia of Espionage (New York: Gramercy, 1997); Ted Gup, The Book of Honor (New York: Doubleday, 2000); and James Lilly, China Hands (New York: Public Affairs, 2004). The public also can learn of the case at the International Spy Museum in Washington, DC, and through the Internet’s Wikipedia.
[2] Declassified reference to Third Force covert operations is available in a National Security Council report on “Current Policies of the Government of the United States Relating to the National Security,” 1 November 1952, reproduced in Declassified Documents Reference System (Farmington Hills, Michigan: Gale Group, 2006), document CK3100265583. A description of the Chinese Third Force program is also available in the cleared account by former CIA officer James Lilley, later US Ambassador to Beijing, China Hands: Nine Decades of Adventure, Espionage, and Diplomacy in Asia (New York: PublicAffairs, 2004), 78–83. Lilley describes the “three prongs” of CIA covert operations against the Chinese mainland at the time: the first was support of Nationalist efforts, the second was the Third Force program, and the third comprised unilateral operations. For a personal story of CIA’s China operations in concert with the Nationalist Chinese, see Frank Holober, Raiders of the China Coast: CIA Covert Operations during the Korean War (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1999).
[3] Lilly, ibid.
[4] For details on the pickup system, see William Leary, “Robert Fulton’s Skyhook and Operation Coldfeet,” Studies in Intelligence 38, no. 1 (Spring 1994), 67–68. The aircraft pickup system in use in 1952 was not, as is sometimes asserted, the Skyhook system developed in the late 1950s by Robert Fulton but was rather a more rudimentary arrangement known as the “All American” system that the Army Air Force had modified during World War II from a system to pick up mail bags.
[5] CIA’s Far East Division later assessed that the Chinese agent team probably had been caught and doubled immediately after its insertion in July.
[6] See Fecteau’s reminiscences as told to Glenn Rifkin, “My Nineteen Years in a Chinese Prison,” Yankee Magazine, November 1982.
[7] Twenty years later, after his return, Fecteau remembered the recognition signal as a flashlight signal; Downey thought it comprised three bonfires. Both were used.
[8] Beijing recently published a highly fanciful, heroically written version of events that night, which claims the Chinese awaited the CIA aircraft with 37 guns— half of them machine guns, the rest antiaircraft cannon—along with 400 armed security forces, all of which fired at the plane! The account also asserts erroneously that Downey and Fecteau came out firing small arms before surrendering. See “The WipeOut of the American Spies in An Tu County,” in Documentary On the Support to Resist the U.S. and Aid Korea, (Beijing: China Literary History Publishing House, 2000).
[9] After years of negotiations, the Chinese government in 2002 finally allowed a US Defense Department excavation team into the area, where they discovered fragments of the aircraft. In June 2004, the team found bone and tooth fragments, which later were identified as Robert Snoddy’s. To date, no remains of Schwartz have been identified.
[10] Internal records make clear that, while the participation of CIA officers on overflights of denied areas was to be minimized, local field commanders were allowed to so decide on their own discretion.
[11] The date of the “presumed dead” finding was exactly a year and a day from the date construed by the cover story for loss of the plane.
[12] Internal records over the decades refer to the “brutal treatment” or the “harsh interrogation techniques” the men were subjected to, but the word “torture” was never used to describe what they endured.
[13] Downey later expressed regret for “every bit of information” he had picked up in the Agency “via shop talk, idle curiosity, etc.”, and he “thanked God for each instance” in which he had minded his own business.
[14] Cell sizes varied, from 5by8 feet to 12by15 feet. The men were moved often enough to disorient and anger them.
[15] A recent example is Larry Tart and Robert Keefe, The Price of Vigilance: Attacks on American Surveillance Flights (New York: Ballantine, 2001), 53–55. This book makes the preposterous claim that CIA would have nothing to do with the men during and immediately after their captivity.
[16] At one point, CIA officers briefly considered a “commando raid” on the Beijing prison to free the men, but there was too little information on their location.
[17 In commenting on a draft of this article, Fecteau expressed his approval for its lack of what he called “hype” and “melodrama.”
[18] Fecteau remembers once being given a food bucket containing a dead sparrow in water. “It had not been cleaned; it had been just boiled in the water and that was lunch.”
[19] After the first three years, each man could receive letters and one family package per month and send one letter. In addition, they received monthly Red Cross packages. Incoming mail was searched and read, with material objectionable to the Chinese Communists withheld.
[20] See Abbot Gleason, Totalitarianism: The Inner History of the Cold War (London: Oxford University Press, 1997), 92– 95.
[21] Downey reports he was caught passing notes only twice in 20 years.
[22] Fecteau’s mother was upset by the sight of him in prison in 1958. Fecteau discouraged her from coming again, so she never made a return trip. Fecteau’s father refused to go, fearing he would express anger at the Chinese authorities and make his son’s predicament worse. After 1958, then, all trips were made by Downey family members.
[23] Fecteau liked to joke later that his good health could be attributed to “19 years without booze, broads, or butts.”
[24] By mid1973, CIA’s Far East Division (FE) had been renamed the East Asia Division (EA).
[25] Fecteau’s Merchant Marine service allowed him to retire before Downey even though the latter had spent more time in CIA service.
Downey, John T. “Jack”
Born April 19, 1930 in Hartford County, Connecticut, he was the son of John Edward Downey (1897-1938) and Mary V. O’Connell Downey (died 1977). A Wallingford native, Downey graduated from Choate Rosemary Hall — then Choate School — in 1947. He joined the CIA in 1951 and Yale University in 1951. He was a member of the football, wrestling and rugby teams at Yale and was inducted into the Choate Rosemary Hall Athletic Hall of Fame in 2004. He graduated from Harvard Law School and then was appointed a judge by Gov. William A. O'Neill in 1987 and became chief administrative judge for juvenile matters from 1990 until he retired in 1997. He continued to work part-time as a trial referee until a few months before his death on November 17, 2014. He received the CIA’s Distinguished Intelligence Cross, the CIA’s highest honor. Downey was survived by his wife, Audrey Lee Downey, his wife of 40 years, his brother, William F. Downey, and his son Jack of Philadelphia. He is buried in Saint John’s Catholic Cemetery, Wallingford, Connecticut.
Fecteau, Richard George
Born on August 16, 1927, Fecteau was from Lynn, Massachusetts. He spent two years in the merchant marine academy. He also attended Boston University, from which the CIA recruited him in 1951. He was married to Margaret Ann "Peg" Durkee (1929-2007), but they divorced prior to his participation in the downed secret mission to Manchuria. After being released from captivity he continued to work for the CIA until 1976. He reconnected with Peg and they remarried in 1976. In 1977 he was invited to be the assistant athletic director at Boston University, remaining there until 1989. He and Peg were parents of two twin daughters, Suzon "Suzy" (died September 11, 2019) and Sidnice, born on March 28, 1950 in Boston. The girls were two years old when their father was captured by the Chinese. In 2013 Richard Fecteau was awarded the CIA's Distinguished Intelligence Cross.
Schwartz, Norman A.
Norman Schwartz was raised in a working-class neighborhood in Louisville, Kentucky. He was the fifth of seven siblings. When Schwartz was a teenager, his No. 1 priority was learning to fly. He joined the Marines in 1943, becoming a Marine Corps fighter pilot in the Pacific theater during World War II. He was awarded a Distinguished Flying Cross and an Air Medal with two gold stars. In February 1948, Schwartz left the service to fly for Civil Air Transport (CAT) – a CIA proprietary company. He piloted CAT aircraft for four years before the tragedy in November 1952. He was 29 years old when he died in the line of duty. He was survived by his parents, and siblings Gene Schwartz and Mrs. George (Betty Schwartz Kirzinger).
Snoddy, Robert Charles
Robert "Bob" Snoddy was born October 5, 1921, the son of Charles Price "Birt" Snoddy (1884-1948) and Myrtle Evelyn Flury Snoddy (1896-1986), and grew up in Roseburg, Oregon. He first took up flying in 1940 under the Civilian Pilot Training program in his home state. He decided to join the Navy in 1942 while studying aeronautical engineering at Oregon State University. His flying background helped him gain admittance to the Naval Aviation Cadet program. After time in Corpus Christi, Texas, Snoddy went to Florida for flight training. He went on to serve as a Navy pilot in the Pacific during World War II. He was awarded with an Air Medal with four stars, as well as a Purple Heart and several battle stars. He was credited with downing two Japanese planes. Snoddy was discharged in 1946 with the rank of Lieutenant. Snoddy signed on to fly for CAT in June 1948. He was 31 years old when he made the ultimate sacrifice. Three weeks after he was killed, his wife Charlotte gave birth to their daughter, Roberta Lee (now Robert Cox), the couple’s only child. Robert was also survived by his sister Ruth Snoddy (now Ruth Boss of San Jose, California).
C-47D Crash, December 01, 1952 (Mount San Gorgonio, California)
During a severe snowstorm, C-47D #45-1124 crashed on the east flank of Mount San Gorgonio in southern California on December 01, 1952. Thirteen crew members were killed, but three passengers survived. Because the snowstorm was so severe, it took search and rescue teams about twenty days to arrive at the scene. Team members found two survivors with major injuries huddled together near the tail. A third survivor with no apparent injuries was found well below the wreckage. On December 5, 1952, a Marine Corps Sikorsky HO3S helicopter crashed while trying to reach the crash site.
Adams, Pfc. Wayne - USMC
Bingham, Capt. George (pilot) - USAF
Dowling, Pvt2-E2 Authur - USA
Germer, 1Lt. Robert (co-pilot) - USAF
Robert Eugene Germer was born November 26, 1923 in Mount Joy, Pennsylvania, a son of Frank Francis Germer (1893-1968) and Ella Ada Holsinger Germer (1900-1999). He was the husband of Martha Strickler Greider Germer (1922-1962) and the brother of Frank Francis Germer, Jr. who died in infancy 1922-1922. Robert is buried in the Mount Joy cemetery.
Hartman, Pfc. John - USMC
Lawson, A/2c John - USAF
McAllister, Pvt. E-2 Waitman - USA
Pope, Pvt2-E2 Robert - USA
Rominger, M/Sgt. Ronald (radio operator) - USAF
Roseman, TN Felix - USN
Ward, CWO Raymond - USAF
Whitt, A/3C Franklin Roosevelt - USAF
Frank was born February 09, 1934 in Ohio, the son of Joehiley M. Whitt (1907-1971) and Sarah Edith Tipton Whitt (1909-1946). His sister was Nancy Gwendolyn Whitt (Mrs. Terry J. McDougal) (1943-1989). Frank is buried in Union Cemetery, Columbus, Ohio.
Yow, Pfc. Carleton - USMC
Globemaster Crash, December 20, 1952 (Larson Air Field)
C-47 and F-80 Collide December 22, 1952 (K-13, Kimpo, S. Korea)
C-47 Crash (Hellenic), December 26, 1952 (Chinhae, South Korea)
A C47 transport owned and operated by the Royal Hellenic Air Force (tail number 47-2622) crashed shortly after takeoff on December 26, 1952 4.5 km from Chinhae Airfield at Haengom-ni, South Korea. The C-47 lost its port engine just after lifting off from the airfield. The port wing stalled, clipping the top of a pine tree and spinning the plane into a hill, killing the crew (which included one American) and nine American passengers. [KWE Note: Some of the names of the 14 men on this aircraft have not yet been found by the KWE.]
Breitsprecher, SSgt. Roy Frederick
Born June 18, 1927, he is buried in Edgewood, Maryland. His infant son was Roy F. Breitsprecher Jr. (1950-1951). The KWE believes that his family included parents Herman Breitsprecher (1887-1962) and Clara Delia Hanenberg Breitsprecher (1900-1995) and siblings Melvin H. Breitsprecher (1921-2012), John Breitsprecher, Hazel G. Anderson, Rex J. Breitsprecher (1923-2010) and Herman Breitsprecher Jr.
Coleman, AB Chauncey Edmond
Born January 13, 1933, Aviation Electronics Technician 3C Coleman was from Hampton County, Virginia. He is buried in the Hampton National Cemetery.
DeGeorge, Airman James
Airman DeGeorge was born on May 14, 1929 in Baltimore, Maryland. He is buried in the Baltimore National Cemetery.
Graham, Capt. Paul Kirker
Captain Graham was born May 19, 1918. He was from Artesia, New Mexico.
Hulse, A3C Jackie Lee
Born October 11, 1933, he was a son of George D. Hulse (1899-1976) and Goldie A. Campbell Hulse (1902-1986) of Grammer, Indiana. He had been in Korea for about four months before the crash. He attended Columbus High School and enlisted in the Air Force in 1951. He had training at Lackland AFB in Texas. His siblings were Robert, Freddie, Millard Dale (1930-2004), Edward Eugene, Marjorie "Margie" Hulse Western (1923-2007) and Betty Hulse Davis.
Izuo, A3C Franklin Narwaki (radio operator)
Airman Izuo was born in Honolulu, Hawaii on November 18, 1932. He was named after Franklin Delano Roosevelt who was elected President of the United States on the same day he was born. He is buried in the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific.
Katsantonis, Vasileios A.
Katsantonis was the pilot of this C54. He was one of 586 personnel that served in the Hellenic Air Force in Korea, and was one of only twelve of them who died in Korea. There were seven C-47D's from Greece in service in Korea from November of 1950 until May of 1955.
Lillard, SSgt. Gene Edward
Staff Sergeant Lillard was born July 23, 1929, son of Rev. Horace Roy Lillard (1897-1965) and Nixie Young Lillard (1902-1970) of Maryville, Tennessee. His siblings were Betty Johnston (1924-2013), James D. Lillard (1926-1985, Norma Lynn, Roy Lillard, James Lillard, and Mildred J. Houk. SSgt. Hillard is buried in Clover Hill Cemetery, Blount County, Tennessee.
Teodoro, George
Teodoro was a press officer with the United Nations Information Department from Manila.
B-29 Bomber Crash, December 30, 1952