16 January became a day forever etched in my memory. A mass attack on Hong Kong was planned by Task Group 38. The attack was to be carried out in a series of waves of attacking planes.

 

According to Admiral Halsey's custom, the Task Group was sitting in the middle of a storm. I guess he felt his Task Group was safer in that environment. The enemy couldn't find it so easily. That may have been a good strategy, but it sure made it Hell for returning pilots, low on gas, and sometimes shot up, trying to find their carrier in the midst of bad weather. Admiral Marc Mitcher was totally different. He was always sitting out in clear weather, nearly 100 miles closer to the target area, when his boys came home.

 

About halfway to Hong Kong we came out of the storm into beautiful weather. I was back with McBrayer for the day, so all seemed to bode well. The first wave from the Wasp was made up of five divisions of fighters (20 planes). As we approached Hong Kong we climbed to altitude. By the time we reached Hong Kong we were at 20,000 feet. Straight ahead we noticed a swarm of planes. At first it looked like a bunch of Japs waiting for us. As we approached, the swarm turned out to be planes from other carriers in the Task Group. We joined the group and circled at 20,000 feet waiting for the Target Coordinator to initiate the attack. There must have been at least 100 planes milling around waiting.

 

I never did hear the Target Coordinator give the attack signal, but suddenly groups of planes started to dive on Hong Kong. Our group joined in and we were all headed down. The first thing I noticed was the anti-aircraft fire. As the shells exploded they all created colorful smoke. Some smoke was red, some green, some yellow, etc. I guess with such a concentration of anti-aircraft batteries around the Hong Kong - Kowloon area, the color was necessary to keep the gun crews aware of where their shots were going. The firing created what appeared to be a solid wall of flak.

 

As we dived, I noticed planes ahead, on both sides and above me. There were probably some below me, which I couldn't see. As I went down, I was strafing targets below. Twice I had to stop firing because friendly planes came between the target and me. Little hairs were rising on the back of my neck because I wondered if someone behind me had caught me in his sights, and if so, had he stopped firing? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two planes come together in a mid-air collision. I also saw a couple explode from flak hits. I fired my rockets, dropped my bomb and pulled out within a hundred or so feet of the water. By that time, everything around me seemed ablaze or smoking. It was difficult to assess personally inflicted damage, because so many were shooting at the same targets. As I was flying down the channel trying to join up, a quick look back revealed total disaster to the shipping in the area. In our join-up turn, a downed pilot in his life raft became visible to us. A Chinese Junk was approaching, and he pointed toward it. He must have felt all was well, because he then waved a smiling good bye to us.

 

As we headed back to the Fleet, we encountered other planes headed in toward Hong Kong. Today, as I think back over that operation, I realize it was the worst rat race in which I had ever participated.

 

The CAP in the afternoon provided the necessary cool down period for pilots of the morning strike. Task Force 38 suffered fairly heavy casualties, but the success of the operation far outweighed the losses, according to the Navy.

 

As we circled above Hong Kong and I looked into a distant, mysterious China, I mused as to what might be the outcome, if one flew inland as far as possible and landed. Well the answer came much later. A couple of our guys, with shot up planes, did just that. They were picked up by Chinese resistance groups and transferred to Kunming where they were received by Americans and flown out. According to the reports, later received, it was neither romantic nor pleasant.