When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941, we were living in Huntington Park, California. I was working for Firestone Tire and Rubber Company at their Southgate plant. I was a mechanical draftsman and designed machines to facilitate the tire construction business. With the War development, the company established a group to design self-sealing fuel cells for Military aircraft. Frank Kolbe and I started the department, with him in charge as engineer and I as head of the drafting team. Meanwhile, Firestone froze all wages and I was making $1.20 an hour. When they hired new men, they came in at salaries above our frozen wages, though they lacked the experience in our field. We worked 10 hours per day, 6 days per week. I remember having to work on a Sunday one time that meant 10 hours per day straight for 13 days. I resolved that when the war was over I would get back to a 40-hour week and no more overtime, etc. For the most part, I was able to do so for the rest of my working career. The wage situation and the attitude of management led me to consider going into the Service, not only for my displeasure with Firestone, but because it seemed nearly everyone was going into some branch of the Service. Even my brother, Bob, joined the Navy. With a wife and two children and working in a defense plant (Firestone), I could have probably remained out of the Service and never been drafted. However, I felt obligated to do my share. I think it was a good experience for me and I never regretted it. I enlisted on 17 September 1942, took the physical, etc., and then waited for my assignment. I signed up with the Army Air Corps for cadet training prior to becoming a commissioned officer. After several months I was notified that I would be assigned to Chanute Field, Illinois, but nothing ever came of it. Meanwhile I continued working at Firestone, telling them I had enlisted and was awaiting my call. They weren't pleased and told me they could have kept me on a deferred status for the duration, but I felt better for having enlisted. I wrote to the War Department, asking when I would be put on active duty. Finally I received a letter from the Adjutant General's Office in Washington telling me I was to report to Boca Raton, Florida on 24 May 1943 for basic training and that orders would follow. This proved to be authentic and, having moved DeVonne, Dicky and Reggie back to Colton in her parents' duplex, I quit Firestone and boarded the train in Colton, saying goodbye to DeVonne, the boys, and our parents. The Air Corps had furnished my train ticket. Needless to say, DeVonne was not too pleased with the whole idea and told me if I lost an arm or a leg not to bother coming home. I traveled the southern route through Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama to Florida. I had a 10 hour layover in New Orleans. The humidity was terrible. I went to two shows but walked out of both of them for lack of interest. I walked up and down Canal Street and through the French Quarter. Then I got on the ferry and rode back and forth across the river until train time. One thing that I had never seen before were life size posters on Canal Street of prostitutes with warnings of venereal disease. I arrived in Boca Raton, Florida on 24 May 1943, dressed in my best suit, purchased for $30.00 at Tate's Timely Clothes in Huntington Park. Immediately upon getting off the train I was put in a "brace" by a Senior Cadet and, with several other raw civilians, marched to our Army transportation and driven to the Boca Raton Country Club that was to be my basic training home for the next thirteen weeks. The Club had been stripped of all its finery, furniture, etc., and adapted for our needs with Army bunk beds, simple tables and chairs, etc. We were informed that membership in the Club before the Army take over was $10,000.00 and that just got you in the door. After the War the Club was refurbished and restored to its original condition before returning it to the owners to become a club facility again. I was issued a pair of fatigues, GI shoes, etc., the following day, but they did not have my size in Class "A" uniforms - either shirts or pants. It was nearly three weeks before I finally received my Class "A" clothes. Meanwhile I could not "stand" daily "Retreat" exercises, nor was I allowed off the base as the Class "A" uniform was a prerequisite for both. I still participated in everything else, including drill exercises. I finally got off the base on a pass after nearly six weeks and went into town to a small store to buy a few things. Though the Services say they will furnish "everything" and "don't bring anything but a toothbrush," one finds several essentials not available from the Quartermaster. The lady who waited on me was the first woman I had seen or heard speak in six weeks and her voice sounded so good (especially compared to a drill sergeant's) that I stood around for several minutes after she had sold me my things, just to listen to her talk to the other cadets. I spent thirteen weeks at Boca Raton in Basic Training and enjoyed several interesting experiences. I visited Miami Beach, Fort Lauderdale, Pompano, Deerfield Beach and other nearby beach towns on weekends when we could get off the base. After a few weeks I had the honor of carrying the Post Colors in the daily Retreat Parades and in the last few weeks I carried the American Flag. As the Color Guard, which consisted of four cadets; two with the flags and two with rifles, passed the reviewing stand I would dip the Post Flag. The first time I carried the American Flag, out of habit, I almost dipped the flag but caught myself in time. I probably would have been court martialled if it had happened. Now and then, the Officers would get us up in the middle of the night for a "fire" drill. We slept in the nude as it was so hot and humid. We would have to get up, put on only our GI shoes and overcoats and go outside and stand at attention for thirty minutes or longer until they gave us the all clear. The problem was that we stood in the grass which was full of mosquitoes. They climbed right up our legs, biting all the way, and it was miserable, especially trying to stand at attention. Once to stir up our morale I wrote a song for our squadron. It was entitled: "You gotta be on the ball at Boca Raton." The music was taken from the song: "As long as you have to fall in love with someone, why don't you fall in love with me." I have forgotten the words. The Club was located right on the canal and very near the ocean. Sometimes we could go down at low tide and see literally hundreds of small crabs, about 2 to 3 inches across. They were all colors and sizes. The various shades of pastels in pink, purple and gray would appear eerie in the early evening light and somewhat foreboding. They covered the wet sand and as you approached them they would stand up, so to speak, and in a wave run toward the water. As you backed away from them, they would run back toward you, again in a wave. At times the ocean was covered with Portuguese ManofWars. They are a complex colonial organism, found in warm seas and have a bluish, bladderlike float from which are suspended many long stinging tentacles that can inflict severe injury. They range in size from about two inches or so up to 12 to 15 inches in diameter. Once they came in and stayed for several days and we couldn't go in the water because there were so many. Another cadet and I went up to Delray Beach which is about 10 miles north of Boca Raton to go swimming. We ran down to the beach without paying much attention and I hit the water and swam out about 50 to 100 yards and then stopped to get my breath. Looking around me I discovered that the ocean was full of ManoWars. My friend on the beach was calling to me to get out. I very cautiously picked my way back to the shore and managed to keep from getting stung. I'll never know how I escaped it on my swim out through the waves. Another time while wading in the ocean about waist deep a bee took after me and I was batting at it and ducking under the water to avoid being stung and I knocked off my eyeglasses. They were GI but I needed them. My friend and I walked up and down in the water in the area where I thought I must have knocked them off, but we were getting nowhere. You could see the bottom clearly but the silver rimmed glasses blended right in with the sand. Finally I said: "I know I was right about here and I should be able to reach down and pick up my glasses." I did so, and lo and behold, I did. There were many recreational activities to engage in. Once I went into the boxing ring for three rounds - the only time I ever did. I got knocked down several times but the gloves were large and it didn't hurt. I could see the punches coming but I couldn't get out of the way fast enough. Needless to say, the other guy won the fight. One Saturday we had a day of team activity that included each man on the teams to cross the canal with a full pack and rifle. They stretched a light rope across the canal, tying it to trees on each side. The rope was to be used just for help if anybody really needed it. However, as each team started across, most of the fellows grabbed the rope. With the first team to cross, about 3 or 4 of the 30 or 40 men made it and then the rope broke. Panic occurred and they finally got everyone out of the water for a head count. It seemed the count was right and they replaced the rope and instructed the second team to cross. Then someone discovered that one man on the first team had been counted twice. They got everyone out of the water again and started a recount. It was discovered that one man was missing, a negro cadet. Several of us then held hands and formed lines out into the canal as far as the end man could stand in the water and we searched the bottom for the man. Finally, in the late afternoon when the sun was in the right position so the bottom of the canal could be seen clearly, they found his body, lying on his back, in about 4 or 5 feet of water. The entire event was very badly managed and it was never attempted again during my stay there. We bivouacked for one week away from the base in the everglades and had forced marches, etc. Each night we were so tired we were willing to sleep on the ground anywhere and to let the rattlesnakes, centipedes and scorpions fend for themselves. We were so tired we didn't worry about them. The last day we marched to the beach and went into the water with all our clothes on. I never enjoyed the ocean so much as that time. We were told that, in case of sharks, everyone should yell as loud as possible and all swim toward the shark to scare him off. We never saw one. The week before I was due to ship out from Boca Raton to Yale University, I got a boil on my right elbow, and not knowing just what it was, I squeezed it so hard I actually pushed fatty tissue outside the skin. I was sent to the hospital, my arm wrapped in a hot towel and covered with plastic. The next morning I woke up to find myself in a ward of 20 to 30 men, all covered with boils or carbuncles. Many had the carbuncles in their armpits and they looked horrible. My elbow was much improved and in a day or two was on the way to healing. The doctor looked at it and thought it was okay but I still ran a temperature, so he wouldn't release me from the hospital. I was anxious to get out so I could go with my class when they shipped out. I didn't tell the doctor, but two more boils appeared, one on each of my legs, the day after I got in the hospital. That was keeping up my temperature. Finally I got up one morning, went into the bathroom and broke both boils with my fingers and drained out the pus. I also got a lot of blood all over my pajamas. I washed them out and got back in bed. A couple of days later my temperature was down and I was released from the hospital and able to go with my class on schedule. We went north by train from Boca Raton, taking the Atlantic Coast route, to New Haven, Connecticut and to Yale University where I received my technical training which was in maintenance engineer of aircraft. This was before receiving my commission as a Second Lieutenant. We arrived in New Haven in mid August and I found a marked difference in the people up North compared to those down South. The heat and humidity in Florida in the summer, at least, cause everyone to physically "slow down." That is a polite way of putting it. I can remember as I rode on the train on my way to Boca Raton, we were passing through the upper portion of Florida. As we approached a little town, we were going through a wooded area with a few shacks dispersed in the area. I watched a colored man pounding a nail into the side of a shack. He would strike the nail and then drop his hand to his side, each time before the next strike. He repeated this process very slowly from the time I could see him ahead of the train until I saw him pass out of sight behind us, and he was still driving the same nail. If I had not been in the Service where my life was regulated twenty-four hours a day, I am certain I would have joined the masses of the South in apathy, etc. When I arrived in New Haven, I immediately noticed the people "running" in the streets. At least it appeared so after watching the ambling shuffle that prevailed in the South. After thirteen weeks in Florida it was a welcome relief. The five months I spent at Yale University until I was commissioned in mid January of 1944 was an enjoyable time. On the early schedule we rose at 4:00 AM, dressed and stood reveille, then returned to make up our beds and rooms before going to breakfast. If anyone so much as spoke to me, let alone crossed me on anything, before I had my morning cup of strong black GI coffee, I was ready to "bite his head off." Fortunately, none of my superiors ever got on my back before breakfast. In the early morning hours we marched to breakfast at a mess hall a little way off campus. On our route we would pass an area where a group of Coast Guard Cadets was billeted. Sometimes, when I was in charge of the march, I would call for "Count Cadence" and we would all count at the top of our voices and the Coast Guard Cadets would be awakened and they would curse us and throw all manner of remarks back at us. On other occasions, we would sing "Chattanooga Choo Choo" as loud as possible which had the same effect on them. For most of my stay at Yale I served as the Guide-on for our squadron. Each day at Retreat the Guide-ons for each squadron would run out on the parade field as fast as we could go and take our position. Then the squadron would run and assemble to the left and behind the Guide-on. Each squadron would try to be the first to form their ranks. The Guide-on led the squadron around the parade field and carried a staff with the squadron flag on it. As we passed the reviewing officers I would dip the squadron flag as the rest of the squadron did an "eyes right." I had to keep looking straight ahead to keep the line. The only reason I was asked to be the Guide-on, I believe, was of my height, and that they could see I loved to march to the band. All the time I was stationed at Yale, Glenn Miller and his band were assigned to the post. They played the music for Retreat twice a day as we had too many squadrons to parade at once. If ever one wanted to march to a band, that was the time. Glenn Miller and his band would start several blocks north of the parade grounds and would come down the streets playing the "Saint Louis Blues March" which Glenn had arranged. There was always a good crowd of townspeople out to watch the parades because of the band. On Sundays they would put on a concert in the park and play as long as people would listen. Some time after I had left Yale, Glenn Miller and his band were sent overseas to the European Theatre to play for the troops. Glenn was lost at sea in an airplane flight from England to France, but even today his band and his music lives on. This year (1989) there was a special TV program honoring the memory of Glenn Miller and many original members of his band participated. About once a week, one of our athletic exercises was to march to East Rock, a hill east of New Haven, and run or walk up the hill and down again. Most of us would run it but not all of us too fast. One day I decided I was going to be the first one to the top and the first one down. Coming down the hill was hard on the arches as your feet pounded the ground. I managed to be the first that time but I paid for it. When I got back to my room that evening and took my shoes off my left foot was a bright purple all over. When I got up the next morning I couldn't put on my shoe. I went on "sick call" to see if I could get out of standing Retreat that day but they told me, either I went to the hospital or I stood Retreat. So I stood Retreat. My foot slowly got better but my arch has been flat ever since. Running an obstacle course one day, I was running through a series of boxes about 12 inches square and the object was to get through them as fast as one could and without falling down. Obstacle courses were always contesting the men against each other for speed. As I wear a size 12 shoe there wasn't too much room for my feet in the boxes and at the last of the boxes I tripped and fell forward on my stomach with my feet still in the boxes. As a result I twisted my left knee and it has given me trouble off and on ever since. About a week before I was to be commissioned, I was walking down the street in the snow and I stooped down to pick up some snow to throw at a guy ahead of me. As I started to raise up, my left knee went out of joint and I had some time working it around and getting things back in place. As I was about to be commissioned I didn't want anything to mar the schedule so I was very careful for the next week or so to be sure I didn't throw it out again. One week I was assigned to stand guard duty out at the airport. This was in January and the cold winds that blew in off the Atlantic Ocean were bitter. Sam Cowan and I had the duty one night and we wore everything that the Air Corps had issued us. Still we couldn't keep warm. Sam decided to build a fire in our tent. One of us could sleep in the tent while the other stood guard. About the time Sam got the fire going good, and we were both in the tent keeping warm, who comes along but the Sergeant of the Guard. As he approached us he could see our shadows on the tent wall. He made some noise and Sam ran out of the tent and called: "Halt, who goes there?" The sergeant didn't want to take time to say who he was or to advance and be recognized. He wanted to light into us for leaving our post and building a fire in the tent. Sam, however, insisted that he identify himself, though Sam knew exactly who he was, and to come forward to be recognized. The sergeant complied and then Sam explained to him how cold it was, and that there was no other way to keep warm. As far as I can remember, the sergeant left in disgust but we never heard anymore about it. Before graduating from Yale and receiving our commissions, we were given a clothing allowance of $250.00. Amatruda and Robins of New Haven were the tailors that made all the uniforms for the cadets. When Amatruda was taking my measurements, he pointed out to me, in the presence of another cadet who was with me, that my left shoulder was a quarter of an inch lower that my right. I had always prided myself on my physique and when the word got back to some of my close friends, I took a bit of a ribbing for a while, being kidded about the flaw in my physique. I purchase a dress coat, two pair of pants, one green and one pink, a hat and a short coat (overcoat), and two pairs of shoes. The date of purchase showed in my short coat as December 13th, 1943. The "pink" pants, as they were called, were actually a greige color, or grey and beige with a pinkish caste. DeVonne agreed to leave our two boys at home in Colton with her parents and come back to New Haven, about six weeks before I was to graduate and receive my commission, and spend a month with me for whatever time we could have together during my training. She was getting ready to come when I made a tactical error of getting caught smoking during a class break. We could not smoke anywhere while on duty, and classes were duty. At the class break some of us stayed in the classroom after the others went outside for the break. We thought it would be safe to smoke there. It so happened that one of the Officers was giving a visiting dignitary a tour of the base and chose to show him our classroom as a typical one. I was confined to the base for about six weeks and had tours to walk as disciplinary action. Fearing DeVonne would come back and I wouldn't be able to get off the base, I went to my Commanding Officer and asked him if she should come or not. He said she should, so I did not call her to tell her my problem but let her come ahead. DeVonne arrived by train and I had reserved a room for her in a local hotel in New Haven. I knew her scheduled arrival time and knew she would be in the hotel the morning after her arrival. I took off and ran down to the hotel and asked for her room number. The clerk must have wondered what I was doing off the base at that hour but he gave me her room number and I ran up the stairs and woke her up. We had about 30 minutes together and then I knew I must get back to the base. That evening at visiting hours she was able to come and visit for about an hour. No one ever knew that I had already seen her that morning. The following weekend the Base Commander cancelled all restrictions and I was allowed to spend most of the weekend with DeVonne. I still had tours to walk off, however. DeVonne stayed for about six weeks and, as we could not spend any time together during the day, she got a job at Winchester Arms in New Haven and worked in their assembly plant as a bookkeeper and timekeeper. She rented a room a short distance away from the Yale Campus, which was much cheaper than living in the hotel, and the landlady allowed me to come and spend the night with her when I could. When she could she would come out to the parade grounds and watch me as Guide-on. I could never see her though as I couldn't turn my eyes either right or left. We had a good photograph taken of the two of us while she was in New Haven. She left for home about two weeks before I received my commission and returned to Colton and our children. Upon completing my training at Yale university I received a diploma indicating that I had "satisfactorily completed a course of training in Maintenance Engineering as prescribed by the Army Air Forces Training Command and presented by the Technical School, Army Air Forces Training Command, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut, given on 13 January 1944." I also received my commission on 13 January 1944 and was assigned to spend thirty days at La Junta Army Air Field at La Junta, Colorado that was a B-25 (Advanced Two Engine) AAF Pilot School, before reporting to my permanent assignment at Wright Field, Dayton, Ohio. The thirty days at La Junta were primarily, I believe, for a transition period in the change from Cadet to Second Lieutenant. After receiving our commissions at Yale it was strange to walk around the campus that day and receive salutes from every cadet that came close to us. For five months we had been saluting officers every time we saw one, and it was a good change. As an enlisted man my Air Force Serial Number was 19128991. As a Commissioned Officer it became O868377. I went by train to La Junta, and I remember that the first night on the train my knee went out of joint again, but I was able to get it back in place. When I reached La Junta it was still January and very cold there. I was assigned to a Captain who had been an alternate for the Billy Mitchell Tokyo bombing mission. He took me out the first day and said he had a B-25, medium bomber, that had a stuck nose wheel but it had been fixed and he wanted to give it a test. I rode in the cockpit with him while he taxied all over the field bouncing the plane on the nose wheel, and gave me a pretty rough ride. The next day I was out on the flight line waiting for him in his office. I decided to look at some Tech. Orders that were shelved along the floor on one side of the room. I bent down to pick one up and my knee went out. I tried everything I could to get it back in but I couldn't. When the Captain arrived I told him of my predicament and he sent me over to the base hospital. They X-Rayed my knee in two different positions and couldn't see anything. They kept me there for a week and the diagnosis on the chart at the foot of my bed said: "Internal derangement of left knee." After a week in bed my knee seemed to right itself and I was released from the hospital. This was the only serious injury I received while in the service and hardly worthy of the Purple Heart. There were two blizzards during my stay and the latrines were outside the barracks that we were quartered in, which was not too handy. To complete my assignment at La Junta I had to write a report, just before I left, recommending suggestions on how to improve the base, etc. My report was titled: "Proposed Thirty Day Course of On-The-Line Maintenance in Connection with the B-25 Airplane for the Student Engineering Officer." It was just a work project that had no value to anyone, but I guess it showed that I was capable of writing a report. It seemed like a good idea to me, being as close to home (Colton) as I was, that I should get a leave and go home to my family for a few days. I applied for an Academic Leave of ten days. I was granted ten days of Ordinary Leave before reporting to Wright Field. I didn't really care what kind of leave they granted me as long as I got it. I was unaccustomed to knowing what to ask for. I arrived in Colton and found DeVonne and the boys in good condition. I hadn't been in the house ten minutes when I overheard Dicky telling Reggie: "You can get away with things with Mommie, but not with Daddy!" Although it was February and the weather was typical for California, not too cold, I was used to wearing my top coat and a scarf and I did so each time I went out of the house in Colton. I was quite comfortable and I realized that Californians really don't know when it is cold enough to bundle up. My orders read that I would proceed to the AAF Materiel Command, Wright Field, Dayton, Ohio. On 24 February 1944 my assignment was changed to Headquarters, Wright Field, Dayton, Ohio. On 28 February 1944 my assignment was again changed, this time to Headquarters and Headquarters Squadron, Materiel Command, Wright Field, Dayton, Ohio. My work in this capacity lasted for three months. I was assigned, with another Second Lieutenant and a Captain, to look after the physical needs of the Enlisted Men assigned to work in the technical laboratories at Wright Field. Most of these men had been working as civilians in the laboratories before they were drafted and then assigned back to their old jobs, at considerably less pay. They lived in barracks on the "hill" and, as Officers, we had to pull inspections on them, etc., including discipline. Often the men got in trouble at the labs but the Officers there would not discipline them. They passed it on to us up on the hill to do it. I got along very well with the men and I think they liked me in return. The other Lieutenant and the Captain were very "gung ho" on military protocol and gave the men a bad time. Once during my tour of duty on the hill there were several concrete trucks moving about the base pouring concrete for several construction jobs. The roadway in front of our barracks was a mud hole when it rained and when the men had to fall out for Reveille it was a mess. I got the men to build some forms and then I went up where the trucks were going by and commandeer one to come our way and pour our sidewalk. We finally got a sidewalk the full length of the barracks with no one knowing about it. Later, after others saw what it did for us, the Headquarters staff provided the same for all the barracks. During my time on the hill at Wright Field I lived in a private home in town (Dayton). It was an old home and I had a room on the second floor. The ceilings of the house were about twelve feet in height and on the ground floor was a high water mark, about ten feet above the floor that was the height of the Ohio River flood in some years before I was there. The landlady pointed it out to me as she was there at the time of the flood. Dayton, Ohio is only about 60 miles from Columbus. Then from Columbus to Cardington, Ohio it is another 35 miles. Aunt Daisy and Uncle Dale lived just outside Cardington at the "Springdale" Farm where Mother was born. I arranged on a weekend to take the train to Columbus where Uncle Dale met me and drove me out to the Farm. I spent the night in an upstairs bedroom and enjoyed a good visit with Aunt Daisy and Uncle Dale. Auntie Doctor was there, bedridden, with Aunt Daisy taking care of her. She was coherent when I went into visit her. When I smiled at her she asked if my teeth were real. When I told her yes, she complimented me on what fine teeth I had. After three months I was assigned to the 732nd AAF Base Unit upon its activation. Lt. Colonel Harry L. Donicht had interviewed me and one other Lieutenant, Harold B. Stuber, who had been with me at Yale and La Junta, and Colonel Donicht wanted us for his unit. At that time, Colonel Donicht was Chief of the Armament Laboratory. By Special Orders, No. 185, dated 2 August 1944, I was released from the 704th Base Unit and assigned to the 732nd Base Unit (Materiel Command Experimental Projects) Dover Army Air Field, Dover, Delaware. When I left Wright Field for Dover, Delaware, I travelled with Captain Boyd F. Herman in his 1942 Buick. We drove through West Virginia, the Cumberland Gap, and Maryland to Delaware. We stayed overnight in Cumberland, Maryland. Boyd Herman considered himself quite a ladies' man. He even found a girl in Cumberland to spend the night with him. Later, at Dover, he arranged for some dancers out of New York to come and entertain the Officers of our unit at the base. He slept in our barracks with the lead girl the rest of the night. He had been a soft shoe dancer before becoming a pilot in the Air Forces. One morning he took off in one of our fighter planes with a Christmas Tree launcher attachment under each wing. He didn't check the amount of gasoline he had in his tanks and barely got off the runway with his wheels up when the plane settled back on the runway landing on the Christmas tree struts. Fortunately he came out without a scratch but the plane was damaged. Captain Herman received some admonishment because of his act but the crew chief, who also should have checked the gasoline was shipped out, supposedly to an overseas' assignment. Before I left the Unit Captain Herman was promoted to Major. On 5 August 1944, by Special Orders No. 188, I was authorized to proceed from Wright Field to the Los Angeles, California area on temporary duty for approximately 21 days to assist in installation of MX-241 equipment. I flew out with Colonel Donicht and when I got in touch with DeVonne, she came into Los Angeles to the Gaylord Hotel where I was staying. I introduced her to Colonel Donicht which ended up in my being transferred permanently to CalTech for 14 months. This occurred by orders of 4 September 1944 that gave me another 30 days in Los Angeles (Cal Tech). My principal Duty became a Liaison Officer. Sometime in September of 1944 our unit was changed from the 732th Air Force Base Unit (Materiel Command) to the 4146th AAF Base Unit, Dover Army Air Field, Dover, Delaware. My duty assignments at Wright Field were as follows during this time: Supply Officer Hq. Sq. Wright Field, Ohio 6 Mar 44 to 31 Mar 44 Supply Officer 700th AAFBU WF, Ohio 1 Apr 44 to 30 Jun 44 Engr. Officer Spec. Projs. 704 AAFBU WF 30 Jun 44 to 14 Jul 44 Liaison Officer 4146 AAFBU Dover AAF, Del. 14 Jul 44 to 11 Nov 44 While stationed at Cal Tech I rented a room in Pasadena near the School. DeVonne visited me there a couple of times but usually I got home to Colton on weekends. During my time spent at Cal Tech I also returned to Dover on occasion. In November 1944, with John V. Balch, a civilian assigned to our unit, I proceeded to Farmingdale, Long Island, New York for two days to outline experimental installations on the P-47 airplane before Republic Aircraft officials. Colonel Donicht recommended my advancement to First Lieutenant and I received the promotion on 2 December 1944. On 26 May 1945 I received orders to report to Eglin Field, Florida on temporary duty for 10 days to assist in tests on the MX-241 project. On 24 August 1945 I was stopped by a Military Police NCO while driving from Pasadena to Colton. I was moving along at the same speed as the rest of the traffic near Claremont. I had seen the MP in a Military vehicle and had even smiled at him prior to his stopping me. When the traffic entered the 25 mile zone in Claremont. He pulled me over and gave me a ticket for going 45 in a 25 mile zone. The ticket went to the Ninth Service Command, Office of the Chief, Provost Marshal Branch, Suite 600, 411 South Main Street, Los Angeles 13, California where they sent it on to Pasadena. Major Black, my Commanding Officer at Cal Tech told me for punishment I could not drink for 30 days. He knew I didn't drink. On one occasion, flying from Dover to California, Colonel Donicht was our pilot in a small twin engine aircraft with Ranger engines. Captain Restifo was co-pilot. I was the only other passenger and was stretched out in the fuselage trying to sleep when suddenly both engines quit and the silence that followed brought me to my feet. It was quite a sensation, like just hanging in mid air waiting to drop. Captain Restifo calmly reached over and threw the switch to change gas tanks and the engines caught again and we continued on. Colonel Donicht did not have a lot of flying time since becoming a Lt. Colonel and he wasn't as sharp as some of our combat pilots. Captain Restifo had served in the South Pacific and was one of the finest pilots I ever met. He also reached the rank of Major before I left. When we arrived at March Field Air Base in Riverside County there was some engine trouble with the aircraft and we drove into Cal Tech by staff car. A couple of days later we returned to March Field and flew up to Muroc. Upon landing, as Colonel Donicht started to taxi off the runway, the engines quit cold and he couldn't get them started again. After that he refused to fly the plane. I felt fortunate for that as I might have been with him on the next flight. Another time Colonel Donicht took off from Burbank Airport in a heavy fog. I was in the plane sitting just behind him, and I could see the sweat forming on the back of his neck as he guided the plane upward through the fog. Suddenly we broke through the fog to sunshine and he turned around and smiled at me and I heaved a sigh of relief. Major Black and I took off from Burbank one morning and as we rose off the runway suddenly the plane settled back down again. The Major didn't even have time to raise the landing gear. The tower called and said: "Go around and try it again, Major, it didn't seem to want to fly that time." So we did and took off with no problem. From what I could learn from Major Black it seemed that there was a sudden pocket of low pressure and the plane just settled down. Major Black let me take the controls on our plane returning from Muroc to Burbank on one occasion. I couldn't seem to keep the plane from gaining altitude and by the time we were over the San Gabriel Mountains we had reached 10,000 feet. He took over and we came down quite fast to land at Burbank which was hard on my ears. I don't know if it bother the Major's ears but I think he did it on purpose to punish me for my poor flying. He never let me take the controls again. Lt Posthumus flew our B-17 from Dover to Burbank and it was his first time to land at the Burbank airport. The airport was camouflaged and he had a little trouble spotting the runway and kept flying lower and lower as he circled the field until I thought I could reach out and touch the mountains surrounding the airfield with my hands. Finally the tower said: Do you see the tennis courts? When Posthumus answered "yes," the tower said: "That's the landing strip." Then he saw it and he circled the field again and we landed safely. On 18 September 1945 my orders were to leave CalTech and the 4144th AAFBU Muroc, California where I was on Detached Service and to proceed to Dover, Delaware, our home base. By this time the war was over in Europe - VE Day was 8 May 1945. Colonel Donicht had been sent overseas as he had not had any overseas service. In his place we got Colonel Donald B. Diehl as our Commanding Officer at Dover. I never had as good a relationship with Colonel Diehl as I did with Colonel Donicht. To back track a bit, the 4146th AAFBU's main purpose was to test rocket firing from military aircraft and to provide sighting tables for the bomb sites used in firing the rockets. Personnel at CalTech provided us with their expertise in developing the sighting tables as our pilots flew and fired the rockets. I was sent to CalTech to set up a Liaison Office to work with CalTech and the airplane manufacturers located in the Southern California area. Shortly after I set up the Office at CalTech, Major William M. Black was assigned to the 4146th and sent to CalTech to head the office and to supervise our pilots from Dover who came in to fly at the Muroc Flight Test Base. He had a small airplane at his disposal and we flew from Burbank Airport to Muroc frequently. My secretary, Jeanne, (I can't remember her last name.) was a great girl and she was sweating out the war waiting for her husband to come home. She finally received word that he had been killed in action. Naturally, it was a great blow to her but after a week or two off she came back and stayed with us until we closed the office in September of 1945. She had a Cocker Spaniel who had a litter of thoroughbred puppies. I took one of them without the papers for $15.00 and took him home to DeVonne and the boys. We named him "Duke" and he was with us for many years. My job required me to make telephone calls all over the United States to obtain aircraft equipment. I became well acquainted, over the phone, with the CalTech telephone operators. They all had such nice voices, and sounded so young and pretty that I decided that I should go over and pay them a visit in person. To my surprise, none of them were under 60 years of age. They did a great job during the war effort and were really a fine bunch of women. Our unit had just about one of every kind of fighter airplane used in World War II, as well as some attack fighters and bombers. Most of our pilots had seen service in the South Pacific or Europe, including 1st Lt. Warren R. Posthumus who had flown the "Hump" in China. Working with the aircraft manufacturers we developed rocket firing launchers for firing 3 1/2 inch and 5 inch rockets from the wings of the planes. Sometimes we built what we called a Christmas Tree launcher that was a vertical strut hung under the wing with horizontal branches spaced so we had two rows of two rockets and one at the bottom. With one on each wing of the aircraft we had fire power of ten rockets. The Christmas trees were actually inverted. We also had a ten inch rocket named "Tiny Tim" that we fired from the bottom of the fuselage of an A-26-B, Attack bomber. I flew cross country in the nose cone of the A-26 on one of our trips from Los Angeles to Dover. The entire nose was plexiglass and I had a magnificent view. It didn't bother me to look down at the ground below and realize that only the plexiglass was between me and the ground. We approached a thunder storm on the way and that began to bother me as I sat in the nose cone. I could see lightning flashing in the distance, however, our pilot finally skirted around the storm and we had no trouble. One of the best known men at CalTech who worked with us on sighting tables and developing bomb sights was Carl D. Anderson, Nobel Prize Winner in the field of Physics in 1936. He was a great guy and extremely down to earth, and very modest about his accomplishments. On one occasion flying back to Dover from Pasadena, Captain Joseph S. Restifo was our pilot and 1st Lt Lyell L. Frazier was co-pilot. We were flying a B-17 bomber with a vertical rocket launcher sticking out top and bottom of the fuselage which was quite an exotic sight for anyone to see. The idea was to find out if it would be practical to fire vertically from the B-17 at enemy fighter planes. We were losing too many B-17s over Europe. Lt. Frazier lived in Ames, Iowa and he wanted to stop there on the way to Dover. We burned up a tire landing on the short runway and it forced us to lay over for three days waiting for a new tire to be sent to us. The whole town practically came out to see us after we landed. All the men from Ames, it seemed, were in the Navy and seldom got a leave to come home and the townspeople never got to see anyone in uniform. The local Moose Club invited us to be their guests at their clubhouse. We couldn't spend any money for anything. They provided meals and all. They even took us on a wild duck hunt one morning. The only way they got even with us I believe was that they had one armed bandit (slot machines) at the club and we spent a lot of money on them. After leaving Ames, Iowa we flew to Cleveland, Ohio. Cleveland was Joe Restifo's home and when we landed there we all had to go to Joe's home. His sister met us at the door and we were invited in. She said she would fix something for us to eat. In short order she furnished us with a steak dinner fit for a king. As we sat there in the dining room eating, more and more of Joe's relatives gathered around us, treating all of us like we were part of the family. Lt Owen N. Dailey, another ground officer, and I shared a room in their home that night. All we could have to drink was wine. If we even suggested we would like a glass of water they put a glass of wine in our hand. During the night Lt Dailey got up and I asked him where he was going. He said he just had to have a glass of water. The following day we had to go to Joe's sister's house for Spaghetti and MeatBalls. She had let the sauce cook for about 24 hours and the meal was out of this world. When we left Cleveland, Joe's family took us to the airport that was some distance from their home. When we arrived in Dover, Joe called them and found they had just returned home as we had touched down in Dover. Returning to Dover after VE-Day found us with a Commanding Officer, Colonel Diehl, who wanted to get back to the "niceties" of peacetime military life. He very pointedly told us what was expected of us. Among other things we were instructed to make calls on his wife at their home, leave our calling cards in the silver tray that was placed at the door, and kow-tow at all times to every whim and wish of his wife while we were there. On one occasion, at an Officer's Club dance I had just enough to drink that I danced with the Colonel's wife and told her what I thought of the whole peace time protocol. I don't know if she passed it along to Colonel Diehl or if she had about as much to drink as I did and forgot our conversation. While I was stationed at CalTech and able to drive home nearly every weekend to Colton, and it looked like my assignment would be as permanent as it could be, DeVonne and I decided we would have another child. We had figured that we would hold off until I was discharged and home permanently but Dicky was nearly six years old and Reggie two. With our baby due in January of 1946, it seemed like a good time for me to get out of the service, particularly with the way things were going in Dover. Major Black had been assigned to Kearns Field, Utah in September 1945 for temporary duty pending movement overseas. The Major didn't like the idea. He was married and had one child and he was able to get his discharge before being sent overseas. Later we heard that he was having a difficult time finding a suitable job in civilian life, commensurate with his military salary, and was trying to get back into the service. I never heard anymore about him. At the end of October 1945 I was sent to the Aberdeen Proving Grounds, Maryland for three days to confer with officials of Aberdeen on rocket development. I was given "Secret" clearance to review files on proximity fuses. When I got back to Dover I read in Time Magazine everything I had reviewed at Aberdeen so the so-called "Secret" clearance didn't amount to much. Following this assignment, on 6 November 1945, I was sent to Washington, D. C. for three days to attend conferences at the Pentagon on future rocket development. These assignments were probably given to me as Colonel Diehl didn't really know what to do with me after I finished my assignment at CalTech. On 13 November 1945 I was sent to Muroc again for approximately 20 days to conduct tests on the P-80 airplane. This was extended for 5 days and then I returned to Dover. Our daughter, Kathrine Andrea Clarke (Kandy), was born at the Loma Linda Hospital in Loma Linda, California on 21 January 1946. As I was still in Dover, Delaware, DeVonne's father sent me a telegram announcing the event. The following day I received orders releasing me from assignment and duty with the 4146th AAFBU and attached unassigned to the AAF Separation Base, Santa Ana, California. To proceed home, 148 1/2 West "E" Street, Colton, California, via AAF Separation Base, Santa Ana, reporting on or about 30 January 1946 for processing as required for separation from the service. I reverted to inactive status but my appointment continued in force during the present emergency and for 6 months thereafter unless sooner terminated. On 14 February 1946 I cleared the base at Santa Ana and proceeded to the Separation Center at Fort McArthur, California on the following day. I was officially separated from the Service as of 18 April 1946 at the Separation Center at Fort McArthur, California. This included my accrual time for leave not taken. The day before I actually returned to civilian status, 17 February 1946, I was tendered an appointment in the Officers' Reserve Corps, Army of the United States, effective that date, as a First Lieutenant, Serial No. O868377. Not having any overseas service I received only the World War II Victory Medal and the American Theater Service Medal. Actually all I ever received were the two ribbons. I never saw the medals. I think if I had wanted them I would have had to buy them. At my time of discharge I also received the lapel pin with the dove of peace on it. It was called the "ruptured duck" by the servicemen. I received a letter of appreciation for my continued service in the National Defense by my acceptance of an appointment as an officer in the Reserve Corps, signed by Edward F. Witsell, Major General, Acting The Adjutant General. I also received the following citation from President Harry S. Truman: "To you who answered the call of your country and served in its Armed Forces to bring about the total defeat of the enemy, I extend the heartfelt thanks of a grateful Nation. As one of the Nation's finest, you undertook the most severe task one can be called upon to perform. Because you demonstrated the fortitude, resourcefulness and calm judgment necessary to carry out this task, we now look to you for leadership and example in further exalting our country in peace." From Hap Arnold, Commanding General of the Army Air Forces, the following Certificate of Appreciation for War Service: "I CANNOT meet you personally to thank you for a job well done; nor can I hope to put in written words the great hope I have for your success in future life. Together we built the striking force that swept the Luftwaffe from the skies and broke the German power to resist. The total might of that striking force was then unleashed upon the Japanese. Although you no longer play an active military part, the contribution you made to the Air Forces was essential in making us the greatest team in the world. The ties that bound us under stress of combat must not be broken in peacetime. Together we share the responsibility for guarding our country in the air. We who stay will never forget the part you have played while in uniform. We know you will continue to play a comparable role as a civilian. As our ways part, let me wish you God speed and the best of luck on your road in life. Our gratitude and respect go with you." By Air Force Reserve Orders Number 252, dated 23 December 1952, the announcement was made of my declination of an indefinite appointment in the Air Force Reserve. My total service time from 17 September 1942, when I enlisted, until my discharge 18 April 1946 was 3 years, 7 months and 2 days.