Escape from Siam

B-24 Shot Down,
then On to Bangkok

by Harry V. "Smithy" Smith

At 06:30 with the coastal mountains far behind, we began a descent to reach 500 ft. at the DZ in Siam. This was when, one by one, things started to go wrong. The sun was rising earlier than expected and for the first time in 1 1/2 years the sky was completely clear. Wall to wall CAVU (ceiling and visibility unlimited). No hiding place today! Just then the intercom came alive when Bomb-aimer Jack Draper called “enemy fighters at 2 o’clock.”

Nine Oscar type fighter planes were closing in fast. Three set up a racetrack for head-on attacks; three did the same on the starboard quarter and three strafed from below and above. Mostly they stayed away from the tail turret. I began violent evasive manoeuvres and dove for the deck. The frontal attacks were devastating.

We were systematically being shot to pieces. ”Lofty” Brenchley, navigator, was killed in one of the first attacks. Bill Pinckney, mid-upper gunner fired steady bursts at the fighters coming in head-on until he too was hit. Soon the flight deck was in a shambles with the cannon shells and bullets slamming about everywhere. The noise was deafening. I couldn't raise the Bomb-aimer on the intercom so I gave Bob Poole, my co-pilot, the order to jettison the containers. The jettison toggle is located between the pilots seats and just as Bob began to pull the toggle up he was mortally hit full in the chest which caused him to straighten and pull the toggle right through without the pause needed to let the bomb bay doors to open. Five containers dropped free but the rest were hung up inside the bomb bay. The fighters kept up the their attacks destroying the starboard elevator, radios, generator panel, engine controls, instruments, and what was left of the engines. The last of our airspeed was bleeding off as I gave the “Crash Landing” order.

We had rehearsed this drill many times and I prayed the crew in the aft section would hear it and act quickly. We were too low to parachute even if we had wanted to. The only hope of survival was to try the treetop landing technique used by Canadian Bush Pilots. At the last minute I lowered the flaps to reduce the airspeed and dropped the undercarriage to absorb some of the energy of the impact. When the sound of the trees began scraping along the belly of the aircraft I braced both feet against the instrument panel and hauled back on the control column with all my might. Even with the co-pilots inert body draped over the controls, the strength born of necessity helped me put the B-24 into a full stall.

There was a colossal rendering of metal as the plane crashed through the trees. The wings, with their load of fuel, sheared off right away: good riddance I thought. The fuselage careened on hitting more trees before coming to rest deep in the forest.

The impact knocked the wind out of me and when I recovered I was folded up around the control column. There was a small hole in the side of the fuselage, which I soon made large enough to crawl out and was quickly followed by Bill Pugh the 2nd Wireless operator. His foot caught in some jagged metal and he ended hanging upside down. A bullet through his hand made it quite useless but with my newfound strength I just picked him up and lowered him to the ground.

I made my way to where the aft section of the B-24 had come to rest. Most of the bomb bay had been destroyed when the wings sheared off. What was left was in flames with ammunition from the containers that had hung up exploding in all directions. More chaos was added as the fighters kept strafing the crash site. To my great relief I found the OSS agents and the rest of the crew in the wreckage of the aft section of the aircraft where they were struggling to escape with the wounded. Just then “Curly” Copley the tail gunner approached from the remains of the tail section.

We made two trips into the wreck to bring all the survivors out. The list of injuries was daunting. Cpl. Naparolski had a gaping hole in his abdomen and would not survive the day. Major Gildee had a broken collarbone. Sgt. McCarthy had a fractured back and other injuries. Lt. Reid Moore had burns to his left thigh but he was able to hobble about. Bill “Taffy” Parsons had a bullet through his foot but was mobile. Ramsey Roe the "Screen" Dispatcher and Curly Copley were relatively unscathed. Flight Sergeants Poole, Brenchely, Draper and Bill Pinckney sadly all perished.

Nine Survivors

In all nine had survived the action. It was small consolation to realize that we were probably the first to ever live through a crash landing in a B-24. We began taking stock and tending to injuries. I had just started to cut some small trees to make a litter when voices were heard. They may belong to Japanese soldiers so it was decided to leave the site and find a place to hide.

McCarthy would have to be carried but we couldn’t carry Naparolski as well and because of his grim condition I decided to send the group away under Major Gildee, as he was the senior and most experienced man on the ground. I elected to stay behind with Cpl. Naparolski and give the rest a chance to escape. Not an easy decision but who ever said war was easy.

I gave Major Gilder my S&W revolver, a compass and a map showing our present location and told him to head south, as there were some 300,000 Japanese troops north of us who were on the run from Burma.

After the group left I tried to comfort Naparolski but he was in a desperate condition and died without waking. I checked the crewmembers who had perished and destroyed maps etc. I had lost a lot of blood from a head wound and rested against a tree for a while trying not to think of the consequences if the voices were from Japanese soldiers.

The treatment of captured aircrew by the Japanese was brutal and final. A crew from 159 Squadron, which crashed in Burma in 1945, was systematically tortured and then beheaded. The three Japanese officers and three NCOs were later tried and executed for this atrocity.

There were other similar reports. I had kept a Sten gun just in case. I came fully alert when I heard voices but happily they belonged to natives and not military uniforms. They were local natives from a nearby village who had found the main party and had been sent back for Nap and I. So far so good.

I stopped for a rest during the walk to the village and woke when I felt a tugging on my arm. It was a native who took a fancy to my wristwatch. The last I saw he was making off with it on a white horse. Well I thought, he’s welcome. I was given a bowl of hot rice broth, which helped revive me. A mirror was produced and I soon realised the extent of my head wound. I got the flap of scalp more or less in place and wrapped it with a bandage. By evening we had all been reunited at a village, which was just like something out of National Geographic. The small huts were bamboo and thatch structures supported off the ground on spindly legs. We were very happy to have this shelter.

Thai Police

Next morning we were startled awake when a group rode up on horseback. The leader was a Thai police lieutenant who had come to help us. He warned that a Japanese patrol was coming and we had to leave the village immediately. We went by bullock cart to a hiding place by a nearby stream. The last “K” ration was produced and we shared four Camel cigarettes and chuckled at the incredible message inside the book of matches, which read: “ JOLLY GOOD LUCK TO YOU WHEREVER YOU ARE FROM DROMEDARY FOODS, Chicago, Ill. USA.”

We traveled for two days with bullock carts carrying the wounded and eventually came to a river where a boat was waiting to take us south to Bangkok. The first night on the river we stopped at a house located on an island where a Chinese couple fed us a hot meal, rice and something. Using two chopsticks, the wife rolled some cigarettes that looked as big as cigars. The tobacco was rolled up in a large leaf and tasted just fine.

I don’t know what the ingredients were but it hit the spot and we slept like logs despite the hoards of mosquitoes. Next morning Lt. Reid Moore related a dream he had where, he said, we were taken to a BOAC building, fed ice cream, weighed our baggage then boarded a flying boat for home. All this after only one smoke!!

The next day we arrived at the house of Captain Rian Pacheetool, police captain for the province of Nakhon-Sawan. After some food and first aid we next had to cross a rail line, which was constantly guarded by Japanese patrols. One by one we sneaked across. Copley and Roe carried the helpless McCarthy who never once uttered a sound although he must have been in serious pain.

The next two days were spent on an old motor launch crouched down most of the time to avoid being seen by Japanese patrol boats. We arrived in Bangkok where some 15,000 Japanese soldiers manned the local garrison. They seemed to be everywhere. An ancient bus arrived and we piled on board for the next leg of our journey. Straw mats covered the windows, which concealed us until a breeze would blow them open. The soldiers were so close we could have touched them and several stared at us for uncomfortably long periods. It was broad daylight and our disguises were not really very good being mostly those conical rain hats seen in the Orient.

We were taken to the Thai Police headquarters and that night went to bed in a cell-like dorm on straw mats laid on solid boards. Before sleep we were led outside to a rain filled mud hole for a much-needed bath. I was reminded of the water holes seen on many prairie farms. Even though we were standing ankle deep in mud, it was a welcome dip, at least until I lost what was apparently the last bar of soap in the entire army. One guard was very upset. Earlier a RAF bombing raid had knocked out the electric and water services so maybe he didn’t think too kindly of British airmen. I learned months later that 356 Squadron had made the raid on Bangkok and my best friend (and Bomb-aimer) Jim Gibson carried the movie camera in his aircraft. Fortunately no one was injured.

Meeting the OSS

I was awakened in the early hours of the morning by Gildee and two Americans I had never seen before. They were Major Dick Greenlee and Captain Howard Palmer who were operating a secret OSS post in Bangkok. Our presence in the country placed the whole underground movement in serious jeopardy.

Although the Japanese occupied Siam, all of their army, navy, air force and police made up the Free Thai underground with the Regent of Siam in command. The General of the army was second in command. We had been instructed that if we were ever shot down in Siam to surrender to the Siam forces who would protect us from the Japanese. Well, this certainly applied in our case. A similar underground had been operating in French Indo China until it was discovered by the Japanese with disastrous results.

The police patrol that found us had been sent out with orders to prevent, at all costs, our capture by the Japanese. A Jap patrol had in fact searched the village half an hour after we left. The patrol was later ambushed by the Thai police and the bodies buried.

Escape from Siam RAF 358 Squadron, Burma 1945

More Siam 1945

RAF Memoirs of SE Asia: 358 Squadron Special Ops and P.O.W by William A. Pugh

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© Copyright 2002 by Harry Smith
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