Sunday in hell, p.106
Sunday in Hell, page 106
Momentum for a return to the ground fight gathered as the scuttlebutt continued, but in the next engagement they were not so fortunate. Several were wounded and more than one was killed in action. The base commander ended VC-40’s participation in the ground war.
Composite Squadron 40 flew 1,084 sorties against heavily defended targets on northernmost Bougainville Island in the Solomons and New Britain Island in the Bismarck Archipelago, including the huge Japanese base at Rabaul, New Britain, from September 1943 through April 1944. Their attacks resulted in the destruction of enemy aircraft, ships, and antiaircraft positions. During an intense period of offensive operations from 6 March 1944 through 8 April, Bob Border flew additional combat missions against airfields, gun positions, ships and shore installations in these areas, bringing his total to 25, with missions averaging four hours in duration.
Because of accuracy in weapons delivery, dive bombers were typically the preferred means of attack on flak suppression missions against antiaircraft guns, a particularly dangerous mission that almost invariably resulted in a deadly, heavily one-sided duel between the guns and the airplanes pressing their attacks. The enemy, which could man numerous guns within range of approaching aircraft, knew they are seeing airborne targets that were carrying powerfully destructive payloads, and the aircraft must be destroyed before bomb delivery, if humanly possible.
The intensity of a concentrated, well-coordinated antiaircraft defense was both disconcerting and dangerous, complicated by steep, sometimes near-vertical dives from high altitudes, or lower angle attacks, all of which were normally made singly, in a string, and lengthened the number of seconds the bomber was on a relatively stable flight path before bomb release. The longer the dive, the more time gunners had to better their aim, concentrate, and lead the aircraft with their fire.
Japanese gun emplacements were in deeply dug, sandbag and concrete-reinforced revetments, and required almost direct hits to destroy them. Shallower dive angles created even more AA exposure for the attacking crews. Despite intense antiaircraft fire on 14 September, Bob had scored a direct hit, completely destroying an antiaircraft gun defending the enemy airfield on Ballale Island. Before he completed his twenty-fifth combat mission, he would participate in six such attacks on enemy gun emplacements.
On 14 January 1944, he attacked an enemy destroyer, which by 1944, like nearly all naval combatants, both enemy and friendly, literally bristled with antiaircraft guns. What’s more the destroyer was in Simpson Harbor, on Rabaul, the major Japanese Base also peppered with antiaircraft guns. In spite of the fierce response by defenders, he scored a damaging near miss on the destroyer.
On 23 January, he led the attack that destroyed an automatic gun position and nine parked aircraft at Lakunai airfield, Rabaul, New Britain. On numerous other occasions, he destroyed antiaircraft guns and scored effective hits on airfield installations that materially contributed to neutralizing those airfields. For meritorious achievement in aerial flight, in his 25 missions, all dangerous by any measure, he received an Air Medal with three Gold Stars, one Air Medal for each five missions. For heroism and extraordinary achievement in aerial flight as a dive bomber pilot he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for pressing aggressive, damaging attacks against enemy gun positions on New Britain and Bougainville in the period 19 to 29 March 1944.59
None of his missions were without peril, and several painted vivid images in his memory by the time he left Composite Squadron 40. One was a large, 6 April strike by 54 SBDs and 36 TBMs from VC-40, VB-98 and other Navy and Marine squadrons, escorted by more than 90 fighters - including Army Air Force P-38s weaving high overhead, Navy F6Fs, and New Zealanders flying P-40s below them - against a Japanese base at Talili Bay, west of Rabaul, recorded by H. Paul Brehm’s camera.
But his most memorable mission, his last scheduled with VC-40, came two days later, another strike on enemy antiaircraft gun positions on a ridge line at Rabaul, a base always heavily defended. The event was to be indelibly etched as a warm, glowing, lifelong memory for both Bob and Joey. It is a story told quietly, softly, in measured tones, with unmistakable clarity and gentle reverence.
He was in a section of SBDs positioning their aircraft at 12,000 feet altitude to attack the antiaircraft battery. Carrying a 1,000-pound high explosive bomb on the centerline of his airplane’s fuselage, he had plenty to keep him busy, flying formation and preparing to launch their attack. American fighters were battling Japanese fighters that were trying to break through to attack the bombers. The aircraft were spread safely apart, staggered in echelon downward to the right from the lead aircraft. The lead had the bombers offset from the target to provide space for the planned dive angle. Offset from the target, Bob could dip his port wing toward the target slightly, look over the side and keep his target in his field of view.
With a 1,000 lb. bomb on the centerline and a 100 lb. bomb on each wing, an SBD-5 Dauntless dive bomber of Composite Squadron (VC) 40 taxis to the end of the runway on Torokina for take off on a strike against Talili Bay west of Rabaul on 6 April 1944. This aircraft was part of a ninety-plane strike group consisting of both Navy and Marine planes. NNAM
Bomb-arming procedures were complete, with reminders from R.W. Walcott in the aft cockpit. There was one other reminder - dive brakes. But they wouldn’t be opened until Bob, in his turn, began peeling off the echeloned formation, rolling nearly inverted into a diving turn to align the aircraft with the planned direction of approach to the target. Before rolling out, wings level, nose and bomb-sight initially well below the target, speed would begin increasing, causing aircraft trim to change and the nose to rise toward the proper dive angle of attack and bomb release.
As he was rolling into his dive, he caught sight of a Japanese Zero apparently positioning for an attack on his SBD. He moved the lever to open his big, room-door-like dive brakes, which had large, circular holes in them to keep aircraft speed reasonably steady yet avoid airframe vibration and exceeding designed limiting speed in the 45 to 50 degree dive. The normal procedure was to ease the throttle back slightly as the airplane began accelerating. He glanced at the trailing edge of his wings to ensure the large dive brakes were opening, top and bottom. They were beginning to open as he had seen them do many times previously.
His best alternative to escape the much faster, more maneuverable enemy fighter was to continue the dive bomb pass, pulling Bob’s pursuer toward the Japanese antiaircraft guns - if he chose to follow. Bob rapidly crosschecked the sight picture and instrument readings, and concentrated on arriving at exactly the right point in space, at the right dive angle and speed for bomb release. He began to sense something wasn’t right well before he released the bomb. Something, in fact, was wrong.
He was having to apply too much nose-down trim to keep the nose from coming up sooner than normal. The airspeed and attendant noise heard in the cockpit told him the airplane was accelerating far too rapidly. He began applying back pressure on the stick, which confirmed immediately the stick and nose of the airplane were becoming increasingly heavier because of nose down trim now forced by aircraft acceleration and attendant nose down pitch caused by the change in airflow over the plane’s horizontal stabilizer - commonly called the tail-plane or elevator.
His speed was increasing far too rapidly and was going to increase right through acceptable terminal dive and bomb release speed. Acceleration beyond red-line speed could cause complete loss of control. An instant check of the dive flaps told him they were either not open at all, or barely open. He was in serious trouble. Concentration on dive recovery became the immediate priority
As the SBD plummeted toward the release altitude, instinct told him he couldn’t wait. He pulled the bomb release handle early, felt the bomb leave the airplane, pulled the throttle to the idle position, and began firmly pulling back on the stick with his right hand and arm for what should have been an approximate normal feeling pullout. The control stick didn’t want to move, and in a flash he ignored the trim wheel and began applying back-pressure with both hands, his feet braced hard against the rudder pedals.
In dive-bombing, pressing the attack through normal bomb release altitude - which routinely gives only split-second margins for error - is to court flying through the bomb’s violent explosion or a collision with the ground, and death for him and his gunner-radioman. And it is the radioman-gunner who, throughout the dive attack faces aft with his machine guns, protecting the airplane’s stern quarter, the pilot’s blind side, while trusting his life to his pilot’s abilities and experience. With all his might, Bob Border pulled back on the stick, and finally the airplane began responding.
Pullout from the dive was a desperately close-run thing. But there was more. He had to continue the pull up while pushing the throttle to full power to keep his airspeed up and clear the ridge he was headed toward, then begin to weave, twist, turn and climb to escape the antiaircraft hotbed they were in. With feet to spare, the SBD cleared the ground, and the bomb’s explosion was safely behind their airplane. They barely cleared the hilltop. The entire time enemy guns were firing at them - and missed.
The experience left both men badly shaken and more than thankful to be alive. When Bob landed at Torokina, he and R.W. Walcott were astounded to see their airplane’s sturdy, three to four foot radio antenna, mounted vertically on the top centerline of the fuselage, had been collapsed, bent so sharply to one side by the force of gravity during the pull-out it was laying against the fuselage.
Typically, Bob didn’t write Joey or his mother and father telling them of his close call. He flew three more flights in VC-40, two with R.W. Walcott. He had orders for his next assignment. None of the three were strike missions, and the last, to “Cactus,” was with R.W. Walcott, the man with whom Bob had flown the great majority of his combat missions.
At “Cactus” they wished one another well, and Bob left on an Army Air Force DC-3 for Espiritu Santo. He didn’t know what caused his and his radioman-gunner’s brush with disaster, or how they managed to escape, but it was all in a day’s work in a war far from home. Maybe someday he would tell Joey and his family, but he didn’t want to frighten them or cause undue concern. They had enough to worry about. The war wasn’t over, and he didn’t know what its future might hold.
Not too surprisingly, Joey didn’t write Bob about a visit to her that occurred that same evening as his nearly disastrous 8 April mission against enemy guns on an island in the Pacific. She would tell him later, when the time was right.
She had stayed in San Diego at her mother’s home at 2421 West 5th Avenue while Bob and her father were overseas, and was lying on her side, in bed, with a small lamp behind her on an end table next to the head of the bed. The lamp was on, and she had been lying there, quietly, thinking about Bob and wondering what he was doing, when she decided it was time to turn off the lamp. As she rolled over to reach for the switch, she suddenly felt someone else was in the room. She stopped, slowly sat up, and glanced toward the foot of the bed - to see Karl standing there, silent, gazing at her. He was dressed in his Navy tans, complete with the tan shirt, black tie, pressed tan blouse and trousers, with the black shoulder boards bearing the gold lieutenant’s stripes. On his blouse were his gold Navy aviator’s wings. For a moment he simply stood there, still gazing at her, both his hands inserted in his blouse pockets at his hips, a somewhat unusual habit she had frequently seen in him and his father when they were more formally dressed.
Finally, she spoke, asking, “Karl Frederick?...” A brief pause, then a response. His voice was clear and unmistakable.
“Yeah. I came to tell you I was with ‘Minimus’ today. My hands were on the stick, too.” He paused again, still gazing into her eyes, and added, “I’m there if he needs me.” Another momentary pause, and he turned and walked out of the room. As he walked toward the door, Joey said softly, “Thank you,” and he was gone.
Joey lay there, gazing toward the door. She had felt no fear. Rather, she felt good, warm, comfortable - and comforted. Her comfort would turn to joy only if Bob came home safely from the most destructive war in human history. And he did.60
SOURCE NOTES
Chapter 1 The New Totalitarians
1. Deck Log of the USS Tennessee, 19-29 December 1941. (Hereinafter referred to as Tennessee Log.); Deck Log of the USS St. Louis, 26-31 December 1941. (Hereinafter referred to as St. Louis Log); Maryland, Pennsylvania, Tucker, Flusser, Case, and Conyngham Logs, 20-29 December 1941.; Preston and Smith Logs, 26-31 December 1941.; Lurline, Matsonia and Monterey Logs, 16-31 December 1941.; Mary Joleen Border diary entries, 20-31 December 1941. (Hereinafter referred to as Joey’s diary); Karl Frederick Border’s diary entries. (Hereinafter referred to as Karl’s diary) Author’s interviews, Mary Joleen Border and Robert Lee Border. (Hereinafter referred to as Joey or Bob Border interviews.)
2. Sulzberger, The American Heritage Picture History of World War II, 19. (Hereinafter referred to as Picture History of World War II.)
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid., 42.
5. Ibid., 19.
6. “Three Lurlines,” “Hail to the Lurline!:” Elwin M. Eldridge Collection.
7. Dictionary of American Naval Fighting Ships, Online.
8. Sulzberger, Ibid.,18 and 25.
9. Ibid., 25.
10. Carruth, What Happened When, 738.
11. Ibid.
12. Ibid., 738-9.
13. Ibid., 741-2.
14. Ibid., 739-40.
15. Author’s interviews, Bob and Joey Border.
16. Carruth, Ibid., 739.
17. Allen, Hawaii’s War Years, 65-71.
18. Siddiqi, “Air Transportation: Pan American’s Flying Boats.” Online.
19. Sulzberger, Ibid., 20.
20. Carruth, Ibid., 742-43, 745-6.
21. Sulzberger, Ibid.
22. Ibid., 20-1.
23. Siddiqi, Ibid.
24. Carruth, Ibid., 742-4.
25. Ibid., 747-8.
26. Willmott, Pearl Harbor, 14; Carruth, Ibid., 748; Part Two: “The Wreck of the SS President Hoover,” The Takao Club” online; “The Sinking of Panay, 12 December 1937,” online.
27. Author’s interview, Bob Border.
28. Sulzberger, Ibid., 19-20, 50.
29. Carruth, Ibid., 752-7.
30. Siddiqi, Ibid.
31. Carruth, Ibid., 753-7.
32. Allen, Ibid., 68.
33. Willmott, Ibid., 25.
34. Carruth, Ibid., 758-61.
35. Karl’s diary, 1 and 24 June 1939; Author’s interview, Bob Border.
36. Dictionary of American Naval Fighting Ships, Vol II, 88-89.
37. Carruth, Ibid., 758-61.
38. The Department of Military Art and Engineering. The West Point Atlas of American Wars, Volume II, 1900-1953, Maps 8-10.
39. Ibid., Map 11.
40. Ibid., Maps 12-17.
41. Ibid., Map 18.
42. Willmott, Pearl Harbor, 25.
43. “Almanac,” Las Vegas Review-Journal, 5 February 2005.
44. Carruth, Ibid., 763-7.
45. Campbell, Richard M.; Painter, John D.; Straziscar, Sean W. NCAA Football, The Official 1996 College Football Records Book, 251-2.
46. Prange, At Dawn We Slept, 37; Dictionary of American Naval Fighting Ships, Vol. II, 89.
47. Allen, Ibid., 64-8.
48. Sidiqi, Ibid.
49. Prange, Ibid., 89-93.
50. Dictionary of American Naval Fighting Ships, battleships’ histories.
51. Karl’s diary.
52. “Tacoma Narrows Bridge (1940),” Wikipedia, online.
Chapter 2 A Diary of Happy Times
1. Karl Border’s diary, 1 and 24 June 1939.
2. Karl and Joey Borders’ diaries; Author’s interviews, Bob and Joey Border.
3. Author’s interviews, Joey Border.
4. Prange, Ibid., 4.
5. Karl and Joey Borders’ diaries; Tennessee Log; Ships’ histories, Dictionary of American Naval Fighting Ships.
6. Author’s interviews, Joey Border.
7. Joey’s diary.
8. Ibid.
9. Author’s interviews, Bob Border.
10. Ibid., Joey Border.
11. Author’s interviews, Joey Border; Battleships’ Logs.
12. Joey Border’s diary; Author’s interviews, Bob and Joey Border.
13. Author’s interviews, Bob Border.
14. Ibid., Bob and Joey Border.
15. Ibid.
16. Ibid., Bob Border.
17. Ibid., Bob and Joey Border.
18. Joey Border’s diary, 1 Jan 1941; Author’s interviews, Joey Border.
19. Karl Border’s diary, 25 December 1940-1 January 1941; Author’s interviews Bob and Joey Border.
20. Joey Border’s diary, 1-6 January 1941.
21. Ibid., 7-11 January 1941; Author’s interviews, Joey Border.
22. Ibid., 12-18 January 1941; Author’s interviews, Joey and Bob Border.
23. Author’s interviews, Bob Border; Tennessee log, 20 Jan 1941.
24. Joey Border’s diary, 19-21 January 1941; Author’s interviews, Bob and Joey Border.
25. Ibid.
26. Ibid.
27. Author’s interviews, Joey Border.
28. Ibid.
29. Joey Border’s diary, 22-26 January 1941; Author’s interviews, Bob and Joey Border.
30. Ibid., 27 January 1941; Ibid.
31. Ibid., 27 January-1 February 1941; Ibid.
32. Official Chronology of the U.S. Navy in World War II, 1941, online.
