A little bit of History

While in Arizona I worked on redoing the scrapbook my mother had put together in the 40's for my father to chronicle his WWII career in the Army Air Corp - disintegrated after all these years (the book, not the Air Corp.) He had sent her pictures, sometimes annotated on the back, lists of names and addresses of friends he had made, and all manner of memorabilia providing insight not only to his own experience but to the state of the country and the war effort in general. It was fascinating.

There were so many pictures that one wondered if one of the booming industries at the time wouldn't have had to be photo supplies and developing. Or that these guys didn't have anything better to do than take pictures of each other.

It was also a cockeyed look at the way the military worked. He enlisted 'for the duration' and was in the Army Air Corp for 3 years - all of which was spent in the US getting ready to go to war. He attended radio school and gunnery school, took classes at the University of Vermont for over a year, was sent to air cadet school and then back to radio school and finally assigned to a B-29 bomber unit to start training flights as part of a bomber crew. They did 'over sea' training for bombing missions by flying to Cuba and back, once - a two day trip - and that trip ultimately constituted his overseas assignment and meant that he was discharged right at the end of the war instead of having to serve in some 'occupation' capacity at the end. For all of that, his bomber crew was on the runway, taking off for the Pacific war theater for their very first combat assignment, when the end of the war was announced and they were told to turn around and come back. Literally ON the runway - poised to go. It was evidently a near disaster getting the plane to recover from an almost-aborted take-off. What a career!

For all the grandkids: There is a picture of him in a pilot's getup that he labeled on the back as "H.P. Stouffer," indicating that H.P. stood for Hot Pilot. (Who knew they were 'hot' even then?) He was in pilot training - had several solo flights (if the 'flight clearance' slips, signed and dated and included in the scrapbook, are any indication) but 'washed out' of training when he got a little too cocky and buzzed a beach where, presumably, some irate Colonel was trying to have a relaxing morning with his family and took offence. That the Army invested 3 years of training into him only to drum him out of the program for a little too much enthusiasm and confidence is just sad. But I can believe it. Anyway, the fun thing is thinking about him actually BEING that young and cocky. He would have been all of 21 years old??

So there they were - the B-29 bomber crew - on their big training flight to Cuba. Their destination was the Batista Army Airfield in La Habana Province, about 30 miles southwest of Havana. Having successfully navigated there and landed, they did what, evidently, every bomber training crew did - headed to Sloppy Joe's Bar in Havana. And there is my father - in the back row, last one on the right - looking not at all pleased to be having his picture taken in a bar.

(He was, of course, a lifelong teetotaler. And a non-smoker, although his tobacco ration card was well punched. He must have been very popular with the rest of his crew.)

There is a list of the crew included, with everyone identified as to their position in the crew. My father wrote to the pilot years later - we found the letters in his computer files - and must have gotten a response.

There were pay envelopes in the scrapbook - a soldier's pay was $70 a month - some of which to be sent home to family. Some of which also seemed to have gone to laundry and recreation etc. There were train schedules and 'permission to be absent from base' slips - all carefully typed or handwritten. There was even a final exam - 3 pages, legal sized, all typed on a typewriter! Ma Bell evidently handed out postcards to servicemen who had been unable to make a long distance phone call, telling their loved ones that they had tried but failed to get through. The post cards had an explanation on the back indicating that copper was being used for the war effort and so was unavailable for the purpose of putting up new telephone wire. And from every posting there was a published handbook of instructions and helpful hints for succeeding - from directions to the mess hall and admonishments to salute anything that moves, to reminders that they should go to church on Sunday and keep their shoes clean and write home and act honorably.

There were also a bunch of disciplinary slips in the book - with his name written on them in his own handwriting, but with nothing filled in for 'date,' 'infraction' or 'punishment.' Do you suppose they had to carry a bunch of blanks around in their pockets in case some officer noted some offence and told them to put themselves on report?

(I am writing this from memory - someone please correct me if I have any of the details wrong, which I tend to do!)

Here's an interesting thing - we found, on the internet, other pictures, just like his, of crews in Sloppy Joe's Bar in Havana Cuba. Follow the link for more...


And: The airfield from above on Bing Maps.