RAF Memoirs of SE Asia
358 Squadron

At Jessore, India

by William A. Pugh

May 28, 1945

Quite a peaceful day, sweated almost continuously. We were briefed about a very special job that night to take four American O.S.S. men, three to be dropped at the Drop Zone (DZ), the other to observe. The group to be dropped consisted of Major John Gildee, Sgt. E. J. 'Mac' McCarthy, Cpl. 'Nap' Naparolski and the observer Lt. Reid S. Moore. Take-off was scheduled for Midnight.

We all went for supper, not much good as usual, but no point in complaining. The Gharries picked us up about 2230 Hrs. and off we went to dispersal. We were flying in 'P' that night, not a bad kite, done a tour for Squadron 159, and had four new engines, straight from the Maintenance Unit (M.U.)

Timber and I climbed in and did our checkover, set-up the Auxillary Power Unit (A.P.U.), everything in order, parachutes, rations all in position, then went for a smoke on the other side of the dispersal. When the Americans arrived our dispatchers for this trip F/Eng. 'Taffy' Parsons and Ramsay Roe helped them to do a 'dry run' by putting on and adjusting their parachutes and equipment. The gear these fellows carried was amazing! Bob Pool, our 2nd Pilot, kept saying to me, "I hope these guys don't get jammed in the hatch with all that gear on!" Believe me it was a job fixing them up, however it all had to come off again until we were 30 minutes or so from the DZ.

At 2350 Hrs. Smithy, Bob and Taffy were running up the engines. "Okay, pile in boys" signalled Smithy. It was more pleasant taking off at night, no sweating, just cool and refreshing. At the end of the runway we could see the moon coming up, weather looked pretty bad down south.

We called up Control for permission to take-off (scramble), nobody else out the same time as us, so there was no delay. No sooner had the Control R. T. said, "You may ..." than Smithy let go of the brakes and we lurched down the runway, with those four great engines roaring as if they-wanted to break away from us.

We were taking off into the wooded area of the airfield and, with an all-up weight of 64,000 lbs. (I believe this was maximum weight limit although many flights were overweight), nearly everyone was a bit wary about taking off in this direction at night. We were well airborne and on the Intercom I heard Bob 'Lofty' Brenchley our Navigator and Jack Draper our Bomb-Aimer (who also assisted with navigation on these long flights), report from their positions as did Cyril 'Curly' Copley who was now in his rear turret.

Lofty called up on the Intercom and confirmed with Smithy that we were on course for 'George'. Everybody settled down and I heard that the Americans were making a real job of it - all sound asleep - we had been airborne less than 30 minutes. Of course, there was nothing for them to do (or see for that matter) and, as we were not due over the target until 0630 Hrs., they were obviously making the best of it. It was quite bumpy, raining heavily as well.

Out over the Bay of Bengal Smithy decided to come down to 500 ft. in order to miss the heavy clouds forming above and ahead of us. The radio receiver was crackling like heck and I could barely hear Control Broadcasts. Everybody seemed unusually quiet that night, maybe because we were all feeling a bit tired. The poot weather and being knocked about in the sky did not make any of us feel like singing although we usually did. At about 0300 Hrs. Timber and I had a few sandwiches and a drink of 'cold' tea. About 0415 Hrs. we crossed the Coast and altered course for Nakhon Sawan Province, Siam.

The weather had cleared, no bumping around. At about 0530 Hrs. we saw the most wonderful sunrise. It was really beautiful. We now know some others were probably also enjoying the sight as Japanese fighter patrols would always try to take off at dawn to greet the rising sun, if not anyone else! At least this was the story we had heard about them.

We had now passed over the mountains and were dropping gradually to 6,000 ft. above the plains. I had just clearly picked up the 0530 Hrs. broadcast from Group, nothing to report. We were also due over the DZ about 0630 Hrs. but the earlier bad weather may have slowed us down. We would be glad when we had done this trip (that went for the rest of the crew if I'm not mistaken) because officially we would have finished our tour (307 hours). However, it was quite possible with the shortage of replacement crews and aircraft, that we might have had to do a couple more ops' before going on R & R. Nevertheless, we were all packed and ready to go upon our return to base, just in case.

Japanese Fighters

Nothing on the 0600 Hrs. broadcast, at 0610 Hrs. Bill 'Pinky' Pinckney, our mid-upper gunner, opened up with his two Browning .5s. Timber and I paid no attention at first, we thought he was just testing his guns. For curiosity's sake I stood up and looked through the small port hole window above me. I don't need to say how I felt when I could see at least six Japanese fighters on the starboard side alone, about 1000 yards out on a parallel course.

Almost immediately there was one hell of a noise accompanied by vivid red flashes in our part of the aircraft. These explosions destroyed all the radio equipment in front of me and caused me to fall off my seat onto my back. During this time Smithy had apparently ordered Bob Pool to jettison our container load. Tragically however, Bob leaned sideways to pull the jettison toggle located between the Pilots' seats and was killed instantly. The bomb-bay doors jammed after only opening enough to allow one container to fall from each of the three sections - the fourth section held our long-range supplementary fuel tank. The containers, I later learned, fell to earth with the parachutes only half open. The same attack and burst of cannon shells that killed Bob apparently damaged the hydraulic system which resulted in the bomb-bay doors jamming. From the time the attacks started Smithy was handling the 'Liberator' like a fighter plane: diving, turning sharply, every way-which way, to avoid the attacking fighters.

Timber was injured about the face and arms and lying down. I could see Pinky was badly injured but still firing away. How he was able to I will never know. Jack Draper came up from his position in the nose in a bad way - injured but could not tell how badly - and said that Lofty had been killed and it was a big mess down there. Above all this commotion and noise I was able to hear Smithy yelling for me. I went up beside him and he asked me to fasten his safety belt securely as he had decided to crash-land. All the hydraulic system had been shot to blazes and only our airspeed was keeping us up, although we were losing height rapidly.

Power to the engines was non-existent, although I could see the props turning very slowly as I glanced through the cockpit window and saw the uprushing jungle. Part of Smithy's belt was stuck underneath his seat and try as I might I could not pry it loose and fasten the buckle. In retrospect perhaps it was just as well I did not get it fastened, who knows?

When Smithy realized it was impossible to fasten the belt he ordered me to take up my crash position immediately. When I stood up I looked out ahead of us and was shocked to see we were already a few feet above the trees, needless to say, I got in my crash position real fast which was immediately behind Smithy's seat.

The noise of crashing was unbelieveable and we burst into flames almost immediately. The aircraft had split into three parts, the nose came apart at the pilot's position, leaving a huge split open to the sky on the port side of the fuselage right by my crash position. The mid-upper turret with Pinky in it had crashed down on impact and fire was raging behind me in that part of the aircraft. When I stood up I realized my right foot was jammed in the wreckage around me, then I spotted Smithy below walking around the remains of the aircraft's nose. I managed to struggle even harder and finally got my foot out of the shoe. It probably only took 10 or 15 seconds, but it seemed like an hour to me. As I was 6-8 ft. above the ground I shouted to Smithy, asking him to brace my fall to the ground which he did. Smithy was badly injured about his head but insisted he was okay! I realized at this time that I had only sustained minor shrapnel wounds in my left arm and superficial forehead abrasions so was quite mobile except for missing one shoe, but lucky to say the least. Wd immediately started looking for others who had hopefully survived and accounted for Timber, Curly, Taffy, Ramsay and the Americans, but BobLofty, Jack and Pinky lost their lives.

Those of us who did survive owe our lives to Smithy for his courageous and skilful piloting against overwhelming odds of 9-1. The nine Japanese fighter pilots must have enjoyed themselves that morning as we were a 'sitting duck' with not a cloud in the sky for us to escape into. "Some Duck" as Prime Minister Winston Churchill might have said.

Our training before, and after being with Smithy, had paid off. Smithy always insisted we do more than just the regular practicing of dinghy drills and crash-landing positions. During the attack and after crashing we had been and were doing things automatically, no doubt the result of excellent training and resultant discipline. I'm sure all of us who survived were in some state of shock although never enough to interfere with the survival instinct which was very much in the forefront of our thoughts.

Now to our escapades from the crash-landing site to our eventual sojourn as P.O.W.s in Bangkok and subsequent escape. The Siamese Army only ever had a total of 27 Prisoners of War and 4 of us were part of this group, the reasons for which will be seen as the story unfolds.

RAF Memoirs of SE Asia: 358 Squadron Special Ops and P.O.W

More RAF 358 Squadron

Escape from Siam RAF 358 Squadron, Burma 1945

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© Copyright 2001 by William A. Pugh.
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