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| B-29 Superfortress |
Flying over China, Bud
stared over the wing of B-29, nicknamed “Bomber Betty”. Darkness draped over the mountains below,
hiding the aluminum of crashed planes, called "Tin Can Alley".
The pilot, Capt. Ezell
eased down low over the China Sea, conserving on fuel, riding below radar. The white caps of the water below flew along
with the plane.
Japan was twenty minutes away.
Ezell began the
ascent to high above the waters, high enough to drop the payload.
Bud stretched legs
and arms, a hard job for a tall man, a bay gunner in the bomber. He gave the other bay gunner a shout. “Hey, Sweetman! Get up, time to go to work.”
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| Dark handsome Bud in center, 468th division, 1944 |
Sweetman replied with
some expected profanity, and both checked their guns on the ready.
Ten...five minutes to
Japan.
That was when the Japanese fighters buzzed
out from the clouds, fast mosquitoes darting around, above, and below...ack-ack-ack tracers...tail gunner swirling to hit the darting planes.
Bud and Sweetman
aimed, fired, aimed again...again...again. I got one…yep, I got me one…
The bombs were
released, target hit, damage confirmed, flames billowing.
Time to go home. Time to fly low
over the water, to use every drop of fuel needed to make it back to China.
Landing is a relief, after 24 hours in the air.
Landing is a relief, after 24 hours in the air.
I got one…yep, I got me one….
My father Bud was one of the B-29 crew that flew in supplies to the starving Chinese people. The Japanese had prevented supplies by barricading the coast lines. My father was mainly involved in bombing runs over Japan. I believe he and the crew flew 24? missions, some back to back.
