The Army and Navy were preparing for the invasion of Lingayen Gulf north of Manila so the Fleet moved up off the east coast of Luzon in order to deliver softening up attacks on the installations around Lingayen Gulf.

 

For the next few days we flew strikes and sweeps against installations at Cabanatuan, Tarlac, Angeles, and San Fernando just north of Manila. Attacks were made on military concentrations, railway junction points, trains and tracks. Anti-aircraft fire was intense around the areas of attack. Air opposition was much less than we had expected. Some enemy planes were destroyed in the air, and a few on airfields. Our tight formations made it difficult for enemy planes to get in telling attacks. Only a few of our pilots recorded individual kills. The majority of enemy planes destroyed were recorded as group kills where two or more planes participated in the destruction of a single plane.

 

A couple of days later, we were scheduled for a pre-dawn launch. This was to be a catapult shot. None of us had experienced a catapult-assisted take off before. A pre-dawn catapult shot was something we all pondered with a little trepidation.

 

The night before, the Catapult Officer gave us a briefing on the operation of the catapult. This was in the era before steam catapults. Hydraulic catapults were in use on all the carriers. A powerful ram pushed a plunger in a cylinder to compress the air. The pressure attained was so great that a 12,000 pound plane plus fuel and armament would reach flying speed at the end of the 100 foot run.

 

We were instructed to pay close attention to the signals given by the deck handler with his lighted wands, and to meticulously obey each signal. After the plane had been fastened into the launch harness, the deck handler would pass control to the Catapult Officer. The Catapult Officer would signal the pilot to lock the tail wheel, lower wing flaps, and run the engine up to full power, then remove his left hand from the throttle and grasped the lower end of the instrument panel. This was to prevent inadvertent retardation of the throttle as the sudden acceleration of the plane pushed the body and arms back against the seat. The right hand was to remain on the control stick, and the elbow braced against the stomach. This was to prevent the stick from being inadvertently pulled back with the sudden acceleration. When the pilot felt everything was ready, he was to signal the Catapult Officer with the left hand and again grasp the lower portion of the instrument panel, as he waited to be launched.

 

All went well with me until I left the carrier deck. On the deck the wands and some small additional lights carried by the deck handlers, gave off sufficient light to present a reasonable frame of reference. Immediately after shooting off the end of the carrier, I had no reference but my instrument gages glowing in the dark. For a moment, I experienced intense vertigo. That soon passed as I locked my vision on the instruments. The sky was inky black with a low overcast and a light drizzle. It was a very interesting join up of twelve planes in the dark, after a catapult shot, which, for four of us was a totally new experience.

 

A few days later the Carrier Task Group withdrew from the east coast of Luzon to meet with the Fleet Tankers, in order to refuel. Refueling was an interesting process. A large tanker would come alongside the carrier and pass the refueling lines over to the carrier. Fuel would then be pumped into the carriers tanks. At the same time a destroyer or cruiser would pull along the free side of the carrier, to receive fuel from the carrier. Frequently a destroyer or cruiser would pull along the free side of the tanker and all three would be fueled simultaneously by the tanker. That presented a picture long to be remembered.