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P.O.W. Mayday Over China
P.O.W. Mayday Over China
P.O.W. Mayday Over China
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P.O.W. Mayday Over China

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The courageous story of Jim Young, a B-25 Bomber Crew Member and WWII Prisoner Of War. His Diary of accounts, unedited and kept intact.

Please view my other ebook- flushing fish

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAndrew Priddy
Release dateOct 3, 2011
ISBN9781465730138
P.O.W. Mayday Over China
Author

Andrew Priddy

life has been an interesting journey, i dicided to share it with others. I currently live in Seattle, have two wonderful daughters and the best of friends. I'm truly blessed!

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    Book preview

    P.O.W. Mayday Over China - Andrew Priddy

    P.O.W.

    Mayday Over China

    The Dairy of Jim Young

    *

    Collected by Andrew Priddy

    Copyright 2011 by Andrew Priddy

    Smashwords edition

    This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Table of Contents

    Uncle Jimmy

    The Mission

    Set Up

    Crime Trail Testimony

    Uncle Jimmy

    Jim Young, my great Uncle, was an extraordinary man. As you will learn by the trials you are about to read, he endured more than most possibly could have, and hopefully ever will. He was a man that never spoke an unkind or judgmental word, climbed Mt. Rainer after his release, ran several miles a day, truly embraced life.

    Jim Young passed away from a heart attack during the 6 mile Tacoma- Narrows race, and is truly missed.

    His writing was left unchanged with the exception of Japs being replaced by Japanese throughout his story.

    The Mission

    October 24, 1942- This is the mission we have all assembled here for, said Colonel Morgan. We will take off at 0400. All combat crews will be on the flight line by 0330, and that doesn’t mean 0331.

    That was about all he told us. There were about 45 of us assembled in the dirty, book-strewn operations briefing room. We were rather excited, thinking that the big push was finally ready to roll. We, who heard the Colonel, represented 75 or so men who made up the crews of 16 B-25 bombers. The rest of the men were on alert crew. Two men for each bomber had to be at, or near their planes, which were dispersed over this large base at Kunming, China. Whenever an enemy air raid threatened, it was the duty of the alert crew to get each bomber off the field and to circle around in the vicinity of the Tibetan border until they were called back after the attack was over.

    We went out to our planes and loaded each with six 500-pound bombs. As the belly gunner, I had the additional dubious honor of tossing ten, small, 10-pound incendiary bombs through the hole in the plane’s belly where my guns swung. This was a tricky operation, consisting of removing a cotter pin from the fuse. The fuse had a small propeller on it, which prevented the fuse from detonating the bomb until it spun off its fuse shaft. The cotter pin locked the prop to the shaft.

    We worked till well past dark on some generator trouble on an engine and squeezing every last drop of gas in the tanks that they would hold.

    We who attended the briefing slowly meandered the ½ mile back to the hostel where we ate and slept. The high tree-lined lane along which we strolled took on a new significance for many of us as we felt we were enjoying a rather uncertain existence anyway. This was the first formal full-dress briefing I had ever attended and it all sounded very ominous and important to me. I had little knowledge of the massive flights soon to be employed over Europe in which 10,000 or more crewmen participated with their 1,000 bombers. No this was the largest number (16) of planes I had ever flown with on a bombing mission and I believe we were all quite proud, if somewhat apprehensive. My 34 previous missions had made me rather philosophical about any other missions to come—better not think too much about it; better to give some thought to the condition of the guns, the radios, gear storage, and what we were going to have for supper—fried eggs or scrambled eggs?

    Twenty-fifth October 1942 came on Sunday. The weather was clear, cool and beautiful as we walked in the darkness to the operations office where we converged, talked in low tones for a few minutes, and straggled to our planes—carrying odds and ends of flight clothing. As daylight was breaking, the pilots began to start up their engines and test them. Ours started fine, and, as we were waiting for the lead planes to start off, we got the signal from the leader to shut everything off. We did—wondering what the hell was the matter. A car was dispatched with a messenger to tell each plane commander to immediately check his plane for sabotage. It seemed that the lead plane had discovered a loosened oil connection just before taking to the runway for take-off. It lost 27 gallons of oil before it was discovered. We climbed to the ground and checked our own motors and everything seemed all right.

    After about an hour delay we were signaled to start up again. This time we got off the ground and settled down for a flight to we didn’t know where. In our briefing the only thing that wasn’t told us was our target. Not even the pilots knew where we were going to bomb. There was much speculation—even that we were going to cross the China Sea to Japan proper. Our group leader apparently feared a leak in security, so he didn’t even entrust the secret of our target to anyone. After about three hours of flight we came in to the airstrip at Kweilin, China. The approach to the small field was rather tricky our pilots all negotiated it well enough. We noticed small smoking piles of debris along the runway. We soon learned that the Japanese had strafed and bombed the field only an hour before we arrived. Coulees were carrying burning dummy planes away and there were soft spots in the runway, which were newly filled bomb craters. It was lucky for us that we were delayed at Kunming, China, for we most certainly would have been caught on the ground at Kweilin when the Japanese paid their visit, and probably would have destroyed all our planes.

    It was warm at Kweilin. We were all curious as to our ultimate destination. We had stopped at Kweilin, which was an advance base to refuel with gas and proceed on to we still didn’t know where. Everyone started checking and rechecking his plane as we waited for the fuel truck to get to us; it proceeded along the straight line our planes

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