Hadamar Decker
01-20-2010, 12:24 AM
BIRTH OF A MYTH
It's the end of 1941 in Toungoo, Burma. Listen; you can hear the tinkling of temple bells. The melody carries through rustling bamboo bushes and heavy, flamboyant flowers, out to the fiery flight line where a young pilot was busy daubing the nose of his machine. The job finished, Eric Shilling steps back a little to admire his work. The idea crossed his mind during an exotic meal with his missionary neighbor. There, Shilling uncovered a journal with a photograph of a Luftwaffe Messerschmitt 110 stationed far away in the Mediterranean, named "Haifischgruppe" or Shark group. He rushed to adorn his Curtiss P-40 with the same gaping jaws. Above the double teeth rows he painted a menacing eye at both sides. Satisfied with the result, he left the field determinedly and returned with a svelte tanned man, sporty and with a piercing glance. The newcomer stepped back, observed the work from various angles and grinned approvingly.
Shilling said he wanted it as a symbol for his flight. But his companion, Claire Lee Chennault, thought it better to equip all the squadron P-40’s with the same sign.
CLAIRE LEE CHENNAULT
It is impossible to relate the story of Claire Lee Chennault and the Flying Tigers without backtracking to the beginning of the adventure of this man who shaped the destiny of all he encountered. Chennault was a Captain in the U.S.A.A.F. and he didn't enjoy a very good reputation.
"The Flying Trapeze team"
Why? First, he tended to speak up when others kept silent. Secondly, he was prominent in developing particularly dangerous acrobatic maneuvers dubbed "Three men on a flying trapeze". It was not a circus act but a military exercise. Indeed, Claire Lee Chennault and his two partners Haywood S. Hansell and Luke Williamson, in the mid-thirties, were convinced that the future of fighter combat was not in the solo duels of by-gone knights, but in the joint action of a cohesive closely knit team. They had established a series of back-to-back maneuvers in which the three fighters executed the high ‘G’ turns while staying packed together, so they could combine their fire power and provide defensive cover for each other. In those days, magnificent aerial shows were allowed to be organized, but fighting was considered an individual pursuit, every man for himself. So our three musketeers were distained by their peers. While Hansell and Williamson left for China as expert instructors in 1936, Capt. Chennault was bored stiff, without hope of promotion.
CHENNAULT IN CHINA
March 1937, Captain Chennault received another letter from his friends serving in China, inviting him to join them. Chennault was tempted but he hated to leave his country, wife and eight children. Several weeks later he received an official letter signed by Mrs. Chiang Kai-Shek offering him the job of instructor of the Chinese air force with a salary of $1000/month (three times more than his wage were then) and all the facilities for establishing a report on the Chinese air force. This time, Chennault accepts, and at age 46, he signed a request for early retirement.
He embarks on the SS "President Garfield" bound for the Far East.
The old team of the flying trapeze worked like mad many months to establish the kernel of a Chinese Air Force, but the task was arduous and extremely unsatisfying, the more so because they were forced to retreat by the Japanese advances. Sometimes the Chinese pilots scored a local victory, but the fight was unequal.
HIRING PILOTS
Months go by, and in early August, 1938, Claire Lee Chennault starts establishing an international squadron composed of jobless civil pilots, flying adventurers in search of exploits, idealistic dreamers, and joy stick cowboys from various social backgrounds. However, this group has no true warplanes and that bothered Claire Lee Chennault a lot. The route to a solution, although full of pitfalls, was solved through diplomatic horse trading between the English, Sweden who agreed to abandon 100 machines, and William Pawley, representing Curtiss-Wright in Asia. The latter was commissioned to be responsible for receiving the Curtiss fighters in Rangoon, their assembly, their equipment and supply. The total cost for China was $ 8,900,000.00. The basis for the hiring of pilots remained undefined because the smallest slip-up might lead to major diplomatic problems. An airtight legal framework was needed to obtain the aspiring mercenaries. Again, William Pawley intervened. He proposed that C.A.M.C.O. serve as a cover for recruiting the volunteers. For the outside world, the squadrons would be "special training units". The volunteers were "instructors" and Claire Lee Chennault supervisor.
Using those conditions, recruitment visits start in April 1941, to most bases of the US Navy, U.S. Army Air Corps and the U.S. Marine Corps to entice potential candidates. Contracts would be for one year, and possibly renewable. Candidates are explained that in reality they will fight the Japanese in China, but to compensate for the risk, they'll be paid the high monthly salary of $600 for an ordinary pilot, $675 for a patrol leader, and $750 for a squadron chief. In addition they'll receive $ 500 for each enemy plane downed.
DEPARTURE OF THE VOLUNTEERS
The first batch of the volunteers left July 7, 1941 embarking on the Dutch passenger boat "Jaegerfontaine". The volunteer pilots present a mixed bag of motivations. There are those who don't want any more “red tape” of the military service, some were dreaming of epic fights, excited about fighting in the mysterious Far-East, and others hoping to actually help the hapless Chinese; some flee personal problems and others would do anything for the money. However, most hail from well-known families. David Lee Hill son of a missionary, James H. Howard was son of a doctor, both with experience in the Middle East. Just a few agitators manifested themselves as mischief-mongers. Among them was a man, aged 28, who made a bad name for himself: Gregory Boyington, who came with the second batch August 26. He was much amused by the missionary passport he was issued.
The group reached Rangoon in September 1941. Along the way, in Batavia and Singapore, Boyington and some of his buddies wrecked havoc in bars and nightclubs. Having celebrated their arrival in the Silver Grill, the only watering hole in this taut British colony, they continued their journey by train 265 km northward, to the air base of Toungoo, training site of the RAF pilots.
It's the end of 1941 in Toungoo, Burma. Listen; you can hear the tinkling of temple bells. The melody carries through rustling bamboo bushes and heavy, flamboyant flowers, out to the fiery flight line where a young pilot was busy daubing the nose of his machine. The job finished, Eric Shilling steps back a little to admire his work. The idea crossed his mind during an exotic meal with his missionary neighbor. There, Shilling uncovered a journal with a photograph of a Luftwaffe Messerschmitt 110 stationed far away in the Mediterranean, named "Haifischgruppe" or Shark group. He rushed to adorn his Curtiss P-40 with the same gaping jaws. Above the double teeth rows he painted a menacing eye at both sides. Satisfied with the result, he left the field determinedly and returned with a svelte tanned man, sporty and with a piercing glance. The newcomer stepped back, observed the work from various angles and grinned approvingly.
Shilling said he wanted it as a symbol for his flight. But his companion, Claire Lee Chennault, thought it better to equip all the squadron P-40’s with the same sign.
CLAIRE LEE CHENNAULT
It is impossible to relate the story of Claire Lee Chennault and the Flying Tigers without backtracking to the beginning of the adventure of this man who shaped the destiny of all he encountered. Chennault was a Captain in the U.S.A.A.F. and he didn't enjoy a very good reputation.
"The Flying Trapeze team"
Why? First, he tended to speak up when others kept silent. Secondly, he was prominent in developing particularly dangerous acrobatic maneuvers dubbed "Three men on a flying trapeze". It was not a circus act but a military exercise. Indeed, Claire Lee Chennault and his two partners Haywood S. Hansell and Luke Williamson, in the mid-thirties, were convinced that the future of fighter combat was not in the solo duels of by-gone knights, but in the joint action of a cohesive closely knit team. They had established a series of back-to-back maneuvers in which the three fighters executed the high ‘G’ turns while staying packed together, so they could combine their fire power and provide defensive cover for each other. In those days, magnificent aerial shows were allowed to be organized, but fighting was considered an individual pursuit, every man for himself. So our three musketeers were distained by their peers. While Hansell and Williamson left for China as expert instructors in 1936, Capt. Chennault was bored stiff, without hope of promotion.
CHENNAULT IN CHINA
March 1937, Captain Chennault received another letter from his friends serving in China, inviting him to join them. Chennault was tempted but he hated to leave his country, wife and eight children. Several weeks later he received an official letter signed by Mrs. Chiang Kai-Shek offering him the job of instructor of the Chinese air force with a salary of $1000/month (three times more than his wage were then) and all the facilities for establishing a report on the Chinese air force. This time, Chennault accepts, and at age 46, he signed a request for early retirement.
He embarks on the SS "President Garfield" bound for the Far East.
The old team of the flying trapeze worked like mad many months to establish the kernel of a Chinese Air Force, but the task was arduous and extremely unsatisfying, the more so because they were forced to retreat by the Japanese advances. Sometimes the Chinese pilots scored a local victory, but the fight was unequal.
HIRING PILOTS
Months go by, and in early August, 1938, Claire Lee Chennault starts establishing an international squadron composed of jobless civil pilots, flying adventurers in search of exploits, idealistic dreamers, and joy stick cowboys from various social backgrounds. However, this group has no true warplanes and that bothered Claire Lee Chennault a lot. The route to a solution, although full of pitfalls, was solved through diplomatic horse trading between the English, Sweden who agreed to abandon 100 machines, and William Pawley, representing Curtiss-Wright in Asia. The latter was commissioned to be responsible for receiving the Curtiss fighters in Rangoon, their assembly, their equipment and supply. The total cost for China was $ 8,900,000.00. The basis for the hiring of pilots remained undefined because the smallest slip-up might lead to major diplomatic problems. An airtight legal framework was needed to obtain the aspiring mercenaries. Again, William Pawley intervened. He proposed that C.A.M.C.O. serve as a cover for recruiting the volunteers. For the outside world, the squadrons would be "special training units". The volunteers were "instructors" and Claire Lee Chennault supervisor.
Using those conditions, recruitment visits start in April 1941, to most bases of the US Navy, U.S. Army Air Corps and the U.S. Marine Corps to entice potential candidates. Contracts would be for one year, and possibly renewable. Candidates are explained that in reality they will fight the Japanese in China, but to compensate for the risk, they'll be paid the high monthly salary of $600 for an ordinary pilot, $675 for a patrol leader, and $750 for a squadron chief. In addition they'll receive $ 500 for each enemy plane downed.
DEPARTURE OF THE VOLUNTEERS
The first batch of the volunteers left July 7, 1941 embarking on the Dutch passenger boat "Jaegerfontaine". The volunteer pilots present a mixed bag of motivations. There are those who don't want any more “red tape” of the military service, some were dreaming of epic fights, excited about fighting in the mysterious Far-East, and others hoping to actually help the hapless Chinese; some flee personal problems and others would do anything for the money. However, most hail from well-known families. David Lee Hill son of a missionary, James H. Howard was son of a doctor, both with experience in the Middle East. Just a few agitators manifested themselves as mischief-mongers. Among them was a man, aged 28, who made a bad name for himself: Gregory Boyington, who came with the second batch August 26. He was much amused by the missionary passport he was issued.
The group reached Rangoon in September 1941. Along the way, in Batavia and Singapore, Boyington and some of his buddies wrecked havoc in bars and nightclubs. Having celebrated their arrival in the Silver Grill, the only watering hole in this taut British colony, they continued their journey by train 265 km northward, to the air base of Toungoo, training site of the RAF pilots.