Teenage World War II fiction

It's November 2024, and I just came into possession of a paper I wrote for an eighth grade class in May 1973 when I was 13 years old. It’s headlined “10 day diary,” so perhaps that was the assignment (as it was obviously done for a class). At that point in my life I had been an avid reader of World War II military history, hence my decision to put myself in the position of a pilot on the Doolittle Raid. I corrected the spelling and punctuation but changed nothing else:

April 17, 1942

Not much happened today, but I’m so worried about my plane I’m usually at it every 15 minutes. Checking the instruments, figuring out gas consumption. But I just keep thinking about Tojo in his fancy palace. I would give a million dollars to see the look on his face when they tell him American bombers just bombed Tokyo.

April 18, 1942

I slept good last night and woke to the sound of gunfire. I ran out on deck and one of the cruisers was hammering away at a Jap boat on the horizon. I hurried right to the plane because I knew the Jap boat probably sent out a warning.

The whole crew was there; Persinger, Laek, Fleck and Gingoloski. We were in number 9 position and all ready to jump off.

I had to keep the left wheel on a white line and the flaps on full. When it came our turn I shoved the throttles forward and took off, 600 miles from Japan, 100 miles too far. I flew most of the way to Japan because Ed Fleck my copilot was catching up on his sleep. 

When we got to the mainland I woke Fleck up and had him fly. Persinger told me because of the storm we would come into Tokyo from the north.

Our targets were the Mitsubishi plant in downtown Tokyo and the ball bearing factory. There were no fighters and not much flak. We got the Mitsubishi plant okay but couldn’t find the ball bearing factory, so we dropped the other two eggs on an airfield. A few Zeros came up after us. I told Gingoloski to make every bullet count, and he did just that. The Zeros went down 1, 2, 3. (A suburb gunner that Gingoloski.) Teddy Laek did a fine job with those bombs, put one right down the stack of the Mitsubishi plant.

Now we had to worry about fuel. We had approximately one-third fuel left to get to China. Fleck is still flying, and I’m going back to see how the rest of the crew is doing. Persinger’s cramped. Laek’s tired. But Gingoloski’s doing fine.

It’s dusk now, and we’re all getting tired. The coast of China finally. I’m flying at 10,000 feet. The engines are sputtering, and the rest of the crew is bailing out the bomb bay. I put it on automatic pilot and jumped. Gee it’s dark. I landed in a rice paddy. I call for the rest of the crew. They all come. No one is hurt (a minor miracle), and we settle down to try to sleep.

April 19, 1942

Didn’t get much sleep last night. It was raining most of the time. We decided to go look for the plane and anything we could salvage from it.

We can’t find the plane, but we found a river and were going to follow it until we get to a village.

Pay dirt! A village. When we got in the village we first had to prove we were Americans. So I showed one of them the pictures in my wallet, and that seemed to satisfy them. We found one that could speak English. He tells us that we are 100 miles north of Shanghai.

Since a Jap patrol was in that village almost all day we had to hide in the small cellar of one house which the Japs didn’t know about. We were in the cellar all day, so nothing else happened.

April 20, 1942

Today the village organized a jungle party to take us to Shanghai where we would take a boat up the Yangtze to Chunking where the Flying Tigers are located now.

We walked half the way and rode in a truck half the way to Shanghai, and by the time we got there it was getting dark. We slept in a small hutch that night so the Japs wouldn’t find us.

April 21, 1942

Got underway to Chunking this morning in a Chinese junk with some Chinese people. 

We had a good time on the junk. Teddy Laek had a deck of cards, and we were playing all day. (I lost $10 in IOUs.) we have to sleep on wooden benches tonight, and I’m not looking forward to it.

April 21, 1942

A day of boredom. Played a little cards. Talked a bit. We had the worst lunch I’ve ever had; rice wine, rice and fish. Played some more cards. Went to bed.

April 22, 1942

We’re in Chunking now and headed for the Flying Tigers base just south of the city.

The AVG will put us up for a while and then fly us home on the next transport plane. 

All the pilots and mechanics were anxious to hear our story about the raid. We told them all that night in the mess hall.

April 23, 1942

DC-3 came in today. Everybody left on it but Fleck. He had flown P-40s before and stayed behind to pilot one.

While flying back in the DC-3 we met the pilot, a real nice fellow. His name is Dick Newvuex. He even let me fly a little bit.

Later on in the flight two Zeros jumped us and we had to shoot back with little submachine guns. Gingoloski bagged one, of course, but only with the help of our navigator, Dennis Persinger. The other Zeke got scared and ran off.

The rest of the flight went unhampered all the way to India. It is night time, and we’re all going to bed.

April 24, 1942

Caught another transport plane this morning to Africa. The ride took eight hours, and when we got there at 1500 they put us on another plane for Britain. Another long long flight, reached London at 2300. They put us in a building where we flopped down and went to sleep after 16 straight hours of flight.

April 25, 1942

Now we are going to stay in Britain as one of the B-25 crews there.

Today we are being taught techniques in sinking submarines. Our planes are loaded with depth charges, fragmentation bombs on the wings and eight .50 caliber machine guns packed in the nose.

Laek, our bombardier, is being sent to the Pacific Theater to work in B-29s because there is no need for a bombardier in this B-25. But we acquired a belly gunner by the name of Bill Devanney.

The tactics are simple. We approach the sub low and slow. If it is surfaced we drop frags on it, submerged we roll out the depth charges. To clean it up we strafe them with machine guns.

After a tough day of training we lay down for a good night’s rest.

April 26, 1942

Out on a sub patrol at 0700 this morning. Got back in six hours seeing nothing.

Ate lunch soon as we got back. Boy I was hungry.

Today we got news that all of us would be promoted one rank for the Tokyo raid and all the pilots would be awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, including me.

Now I am a colonel with a DFC. Took a little nap today, mailed a letter to Teddy Laek with $10 in it.

April 27, 1942

Sub patrol at 0700 this morning. While about two hours out we spotted a U-boat. Much of the crew was topside laying in the sun. We ran the length and dropped a wing full of frags on those stupid krauts, six more frags on the next pass. The sub was sinking so we threw down some life rafts and flew on.

Coming back we found a submerged submarine running south. Depth charge door was opened and two ash cans were dropped. Both were lucky and landed on either side of the sub. The whole thing went up in a terrific explosion of men and metal. Again we tossed down life rafts, radioed their position and left.

When we got back we had to brag. It isn’t every day that you get two subs on one patrol.

It’s getting dark and we’re all going to bed now.