Site Search:

The RCAF in Alaska

The RCAF in Alaska continued from page 3

They'd wait for a good day and then scramble into their aeroplanes and head for Kiska. There might be fog there, but that didn't stop them.

The Jap radiolocaters would pick them up as they came and the heavy-calibre flak would be coming at them through the fog, always bursting at their level. But they'd throw their aeroplanes around in the air, weaving and dodging. When they reached a spot where there was a big concentration of fire, they'd figure they had a target below, and the leader would peel off and dive.

Tearing down through dense clouds at 300 miles an hour plus, when you can't see your target, takes a special kind of nerve, particularly when you're diving into heavier fire all the time. Around 5,000 ft. the lighter-calibre flak would be arriving in storms, tracers spitting past all over the place. At 3,000 ft. the macffine-guns, light and heavy, were opening up. Still they'd go in, aiming the aeroplane at something that was just taking shape through the haze. Maybe it was a revetrnent, sheltering trucks, maybe a gun position. At 2,000 ft., perhaps even as low as 1,000 ft., depending on visibility, they'd dump that bomb and pull up the nose. Sometimes they went so low that the concussion of the 550-lb. bombs lifted and tossed the aircraft.

Then they'd get out of the way, for there'd be someone else coming in right behind, looldng for a likely spot to plant one. And there'd be another coming in behind him. So get clear and give them the track.

Down below, big Jap guns would bellow as those Kittyhawks screamed at them to plant destruction. The Kittys, "peashooters" as the pilots fondly called them, had now done one part of their job, so they'd whizz out to sea and leave the flak behind them. There they'd climb to 13,000 ft., to rendezvous and get into formation - then turn and go back, the flak picking them up again, bracketing them right at their level. The Japs have pretty good radiolocation. The Kittyhawks would peel off again and go in, this time right down on the deck. The Kittys are down to 200 ft. now and every gun on the island is going. Kiska is raving like a maniac under the lash.

Sweep that road. Those trucks look good. The Japs's have trouble bringing in new ones. Six 50-calibre guns, three in each wing, spit armour-piercing and incendiary bullets and three trucks by the side of the road start to flame. There must be some scared little Jappies down there somewhere, huddled in a ditch, catching a flash of the RCAF roundel any time they get up enough nerve to give a peep at the sky.

The Canadians flew nearly 60 missions against Kiska, none against Attu. By the time the RCAF got to Amchitka, Attu was being rnopped up. And the weather was so bad there that even the U.S. medium rang stuff couldn't give the ground troops much help. It was strictly an infantry show, as ferocious as they came.

Sixty missions do not seem many for the length of time the Canadians spent in the Aleutians, but when the weather is taken into account it's a big number. There are combat reports on record to show what they actuay did: 'Ships Able, Buffalo, Charlie and Dog left burning in Gertrude Cove." "Hit runway seven times in 16 tries. Japs hadn't fully repaired it after last bombing." "Left mess hall burning, and blew up warehouse." "Observed direct hits on submarine pens."

"Flying Officer Cochand scored direct hits on heavy anti-aircraft battery on North Head. Blew it up."

"Strafed Jap main camp from low level."

These, and a lot more like them, tell in the brief language of military intelligence what the Canadians were doing to the Japs on Kiska. They did quite a lot of the same. Any day they could fly (and on a lot of days when no one outside of the Aleutians would have dared to take an aeroplane into the air) they were in there pasting the little brown men who dreamed of pleasant homes and docile slaves on the Pacific coast of America.

They pocked that island with their bomb patterns whenever they saw signs of activity. And they risked themselves in fog and flak to get in close with their rnachine-guns. They did so well that the RCAF uniform came to mean something among the flying men in the Aleutians, where you have to be tops as a pilot just to stay alive.

RCAF in Alaska

There was the day that Major General N. E. 1,add jumped into his command car and drove to the RCAF field at Umnak. He was carrying seven U.S. Air Force Medals . There was a " pukka" parade, in the best RCAF tradition, with a United States Army band playing " The Star Spangled Banner... and "God Save the King." He pinned the medals on the following officers of the RCAF.: Squadron Leader Bradley R. Walker, London, Ont.; Flight Lieutenant Ron Cox, Winnipeg, Man.; Flight Lieutenant A. W. Roseland, Calgary, Alta.; Flying Officer Wifliam MacLean, Carnpbeiltown, N.B.; Flying Officer Dave McDuff, Trafalgar, Ont.; Flying Officer Louis Cochand, St. Marguerite, Que.; and Pilot Officer Haviston Hobbic, of Roanoke, Virginia. The citation mentioned "attacks pressed home in the face of enemy opposition with a courage, skill and determination that reflects the highest credit on the force in which they serve."

When the time came for the ground forces to move in on Kiska, the RCAF had its little fighters on the line, ready and eager to go in and give them co-operation and cover. The pilots looked forward to that. They'd hit the Japs a real wallop. They were especially pleased when Canadian regiments arrived to take part in the show.

Everyone waited for the big day. But the old enemy, the weather, stepped in again. On July 26 the Canucks had been over Kiska on three separate missions. They had blasted the Jap runway to bits and had drawn heavy fire. The RCAF carried out the last attack on the Japs before they fled. Next day the fog came down and stayed down for 10 days. No aircraft could fly in that stuff, and by the time it lifted the Japs had sneaked out of Kiska. The ground forces charged ashore on September 2 and found them gone. Canadian and U.S. pilots sat around the rude mess hall on Arnchitka the night that it was confirmed that Kiska was empty of Japs. The language was something to hear.

But there was one ray of light. The U.S. pilots seemed to be pretty well agreed on one thing: that if the Jap fighter runway had not been bombed out of commission on that last day, the Japs might have remained on the island, counting on aeroplanes from Paramushiro to come over and give them a hand. Had they remained, and had they been able to get air cover of any sort, Kiska could have piled up a tremendous casualty list.

As it was, the Jap was forced to flee from his American foothold, and another stepping stone to Japan was cleared.

Previous Page:1 2 3 4