Thursday, January 21, 2010

Vale George Condor Hitchcock 1922 - 2010


New Zealand Herald
Published Thursday, January 21 2010

HITCHCOCK, George Condor, OBE, DFC, MB ChB, MD, FRACS, FRCPA, NZ412006.
Dearly loved husband of Jo, father and fatherinlaw of Jenny and Graham Buchan, Sue and Jon Monk, Mike and Mary Hitchcock, and Anne and Mark Perratt and Grandfather of Alice, Ian, Isabel, Tamsin, Eleanor, Katie, Will, Lloyd and Audrey.
George died peacefully at home on 19 January 2010, aged 87.
His funeral will be at 11am, Tuesday 26 January at St Mary's In Holy Trinity Cathedral, 446 Parnell Road, Parnell, Auckland.

Friday, January 1, 2010

Diary of Ernest Kenyon Alexander (Part XII)

NZ416235 W/O Ernie Alexander (Navigator)

Part XII : Pacific Ferry Command

These experiences are from extracts of letters that I wrote to my grandfather Mr. A. K. Alexander of Hamilton, N.Z. when I did my aircrew training in Canada.

We were only at Halavo Bay a short time and I received the news about a posting to the Pacific Ferry Command.
We flew to Suva and boarded an American Coronado to San Francisco. After 36 hours flying time we reached San Francisco and from a passenger's point of view we found it quite boring. We had no seats and sprawled over mail bags and general cargo. It made me realise how fortunate I was to be a navigator with something to do all the time. On this trip and others we we flew in Coronados, Skymasters or Mariners.
Our first stop was at Funafuti in the Ellice Islands [Tuvalu], where we refuelled. We stayed overnight at Canton, an American base. It was one foot above sea level and one tree grew on the island. Shaped like a horseshoe, with a lagoon in the middle, everything was white coral. From Canton we flew to Pearl Harbor where spent one day while waiting for another plane. Hundreds of acres of pineapple and sugar cane plantations could be clearly seen from the air. Honolulu is a very cosmopolitan place with every Asiatic race possible. Plenty of Japanese, which rather amused me, seeing we were at war with Japan. However they were born there and probably had no affiliation with Japan. We made the most of our stay and visited Waikiki Beach and saw the fabulous Royal Hawaiian Hotel.
The two crews who flew on this trip were a scruffy lot, all our uniforms being different. Our problem was to obtain proper clothing as we wore shorts in the islands. Our Commanding Officer, Squadron Leader Agar [John Agar] wore a drill uniform (Summer Dress) but the tunic had a large tear on the back and he had stitched it up man fashion. Some of the boys wore No. 1 Dress; blue trousers, shirt and tie, but no coat, others had drill uniforms without tunics. I managed to borrow blue battle dress (complete) from Mick Cassidy, but being in a kit bag for a long time it smelled of mould. When a Canadian Group Captain saw us he read the riot act and sent a cable to Air force Headquarters in Wellington. The next trip we were outfitted in new uniforms. Just as well we met him.
We arrived in San Francisco early in the morning and the Golden Gate Bridge was a fabulous sight. After landing at Hamilton Field we were taken to the Fairmont Hotel. It was one of the leading hotels in the city, frequented by Presidents and other nobility. The owners had converted normal $16.00 suites and placed eight beds in them, the result was we had accommodation at $2.00 each per night.
In San Francisco we were placed on day to day leave which meant reporting each morning and having the day free. We stayed six days on this trip and saw most of the sights. We met some wonderful families and were taken to all sorts of places.
Our crews travelled to San Diego by train. We were met by the Red Cross who gave us coffee and doughnuts. The girls had never met New Zealanders before and were intrigued by us. We were billeted in Navy barracks and given delivery of our Catalina. Our job was to test all equipment from every crew members point of view. My main concern was to swing compasses, check astro compasses, drift recorders, sextants and similar equipment. This I did with exacting care because the first leg of the journey was Pearl Harbor, 2,800 miles away. I still remembered my school boy worship of Ulm, and he was lost on this trip by faulty navigation.
We did several small test flights and one big one, about 350 miles out to sea. On one we took two WAVES (American Navy Service girls) and they thought it was great.
In between times we were able to visit most of San Diego. The factories were flat out making war planes. All parks and spaces on the streets were cluttered up with them ready to be shipped to the Islands.
In due course we were ready for our first Ferry trip and after one postponement on account of fog, we took off in the late afternoon. It was my first long ocean flight and I had a few nervous thoughts on it. Nothing between San Diego and Pearl Harbor except two weather ships. I procured the largest maps I could find so that my plotting would be more accurate. Three inches represented about 60 miles, but I also took a smaller one, one inch to 60 miles. The weather was beautiful, not a cloud in the sky, but a little hazy in San Diego with fog. Navigation for a start was dead reckoning, drifts, one or two sun shots, and the odd radio bearing. The crew all settled down well, we were all good friends after many trips together and this was a new experience and a certain amount of excitement. Darkness came and we flew at 12,000 feet above 10/10 cloud. It was a sight one could never dream of, a full moon, a brilliant night sky and a thick mat of fleecy cumulus cloud beneath us. From now on it was all astro navigation. I chose the planet Jupiter, the latitude star Polaris and another which I changed with each set of shots. The first fix didn't seem too bad and the following ones indicated a pattern so I was feeling quite pleased. Very soon I discarded the the large scale maps and used the small one, so much for my increasing confidence.
For the rest of the crew it was along vigil. Pilots just sat and kept course except for the odd minor alteration. some of the time they would yarn over the R/T to other crew members, but I never wore my earphones, I was far too busy to natter. The Radio Operator sent M.T.B. (Messages To Base) every hour which I prepared for him, including position and weather reports. The Engineer took readings every half hour and entered them in his log, and served meals.
For my part it was pretty constant, except towards the end. It took about six minutes to shoot three stars, then I had to work them out and plot them. From this it was necessary to work out a new wind and prepare a new position. All results of course were entered in my log. When this was finished you were required to repeat the process all over again.
The most important part of the journey was working out the point of no return. This was a position where it was safer to return to San Diego than proceed to Pearl Harbor. Facors to take into consideration were winds and fuel consumption. We were in a happy position to carry on without incident and eventually stars began to fade and the clouds below us thin out.
After my last star fix I plotted in a new course and relied on drifts for a while. My last astro shot was the Moon which gave a position line right across track. At 400 miles I gave my final course and E.T.A. to Skipper, Bill Mackley, and I relaxed a little. [JS Note: Winston Brooke Mackley 1915-2005] The wind at this stage was very stable and little of it, we were in the middle of a high. All I could do was check on drift and collect an ocassional radio bearin, but they were inaccurate at that hour of the morning.
In due course we could see an outline of a high mountain in Hawaii, and as we came nearer we recognised it as Kaneohe, we were dead on track. The crew all tired by n ow were tickled pink. I don't know what doubts they had they had at the beginning of the journey, but if they had, they were all gone now. They made me feel like a hero, and I must admit I was pleased with the result, because we arrived within half a minute of my estimate. From now on I had every faith in astro. Our trip took 16 1/2 hours.
After we landed we were given a meal and a bed on camp stretchers. We were all in a large dormitory and we slept like logs. While we were there carpenters came in and built partitions around us and we never heard a sound.
The next hops were much shorter. The first to Palmyra Island and the next to Canton Island. The latter was covered in cloud and I worked very diligently because it was so small and could easily be missed. However all went well and my navigation was OK. We finally reached Suva and then were shuttled back to collect more planes.
In due course the Ferry Command work finished and the crew was sent to New Zealand. We went to Wellington and were told we were on the way to England. Skipper Bill Mackley of course won his first D.F.C. over there and received his second in the islands. I was thrilled to be able to stay with him.

Diary of Ernest Kenyon Alexander (Part XI)

NZ416235 W/O Ernie Alexander (Navigator)

Part XI : Treasury Islands - Operations

These experiences are from extracts of letters that I wrote to my grandfather Mr. A. K. Alexander of Hamilton, N.Z. when I did my aircrew training in Canada.

After some months at Halavo Bay, I was sent on a detached flight to the Treasury Islands. Again our crew were among the first to go. For this we only took seven of a crew. Our two new engineers, Bill Harvey and Alby Dower, stayed behind. Bill Harvey carried on in the Air Force after the war and flew for several overseas airways. He finally married a Japanese girl in Hong Kong. Alby Dower is a contract carrier and lives at Manurewa.
Our crew always seemed to be among the ones who were moved on to do something different. We received word quite unexpectedly that we were to go on a detached flight to somewhere. We packed up and took off to the Treasury Islands and landed in a channel between two islands, Mono and Stirling. Our accommodation was rather luxurious, an American aircraft tender, the U.S.S. Coos Bay. We slept in bunks and dined in grand style. I was quite intrigued to use a pop-up toaster, I thought it really something.
Both islands were occupied by N.Z. troops, having taken them off the Japs. On one island an American bomber squadron was stationed, and it was also the base for a motor torpedo boat squadron.
[JS Note: 15 December 1943 U.S. Naval operating base established in the Stirling Islands. Stirling Airfield (Coronus Strip) Stirling Island. 15/1/1944: 339th Fighter Squadron operating P-38 Lightnings moves from Guadalcanal to Stirling Island. 20/1/1944: 75th Bombardment Squadron (Medium) operating B-25s moves from Russell Islands to Sterling Island. 25/1/1944: 106th Reconnaissance Squadron (Bombardment) operating B-25s transfers from Guadalcanal to Sterling Island. 7/3/1944: First Marine PBJ Squadron VMB 413 moves from Espiritu Santo to Stirling Island.]
Every nighta number went out to intercept Japanese troop barges moving from Bougainville to Buka Island and they invariably sunk some.
On Mono Island there was an American anti-aircraft battery, and when we were there it had seven victims, four American planes and three New Zealand ones. They shot at anything in sight and we were warned never to fly over the island. We always came in low and approached the channel without flying over the island. Submarine nets were strung across each end of the channel. Once or twice we went ashore and spoke to the troops, on one occasion I met my cousin, Jim Morrison from Paeroa, and also Stan Malequinn, who later married Roma booth, another cousin from Kerepehi. Stan was laying telephone wires through the jungle and I asked him where to find Jim. He was a stranger then, and we next met at his wedding - a small world.
The army boys had a picture theatre on a hillside. They lay coconut logs on the ground for seats, and it was completely open air. It was named St. James, it was certainly the best (the only one) available. When it rained and it was often, the show would be abandoned. That was the extent of our entertainment.
The only incident on the ship was a Jap raid early one morning. Apparently we were the target, but they missed and destroyed several planes and damaged numerous others. We were only about 150 yards away. The Japs came in very low, the radar missed them, and so did the anti-aircraft guns. I was woken to hear our gunners blazing away and the bombs going off.
Most of our work here was rescue 'Dumbo' jobs. When on a rescue job we always flew up to Mutapina Point on Bougainville Island and circled for about half an hour or so until our escort was ready. We usually had eight Airacobra, or sometimes Lightnings. Mutapina Point was mapped wrongly and was several miles out of position. It was 60 miles from our base and we were usually there in half an hour. The base at Mutapina was only five miles by three miles and triangular. The American Marines landed and pushed the Japanese back far enough to set up camp and lay down several strips.
On Bougainville there were 100,000 Japanese and they were virtually isolated. They obtained supplies by I Class submarines and attempted to grow their own food. the Yanks made a habit of spraying their gardens as soon as they were ready to eat.
Everyday they bombed the perimeter of the base to keep the Japanese quiet. Even then, every so often they would launch an offensive and try and push the Americans into the sea. One day when we were waiting for an escort Jap shells were coming mighty close to us. We had ventured too far inland, we didn't do that again.
Bougainville was very mountainous, Mt Balboa, [JS Note: I believe Ernie must here be referring to Mt Balbi at 2,715 M the highest point on the island] not far beyond Mutapina Point was an active volcano and always steaming. It would not have been a pleasant experience to have crashed on Bougainville. The natives in many places were cannibals and the story went that they decorated their villages with Jap heads.
Almost all our trips went to Rabaul Harbour. Around the town there were five strips and about 20,000 Japanese troops. It was a daily excursion to bomb the place, and we used to watch the planes going in dropping their loads. We were always on the perimeter waiting for the call, "50 Baker 28".
The Japanese radar at Cape Gazelle was quite ineffective for two reasons. One, it was always being bombed, and the other, that we flew almost at sea level, and it was hard for them to pick us up. I think the reason why we were not attacked very much was that the Japanese were too busy licking their wounds after a raid. We could see the fires and smoke quite easily.
An American PBY Catalina at our base had a three inch shell through it one day, but it was a dud.
Our flight made numerous rescues all over the place. Quite often the planes would be nearly home when they ditched. Among those picked up were crews from Liberators, Airacobras, Mitchells, Kittyhawks, Corsairs, Dauntless and Avengers. No plane was immune from being shot down.
The Japanese on the other hand would not accept a ride from a 'Dumbo'. It was a disgrace to be captured and they would sooner commit hari-kari. One plane did land to rescue a Jap fighter pilot, but he waved him away. It was dangerous anyhow because they were known to carry a bomb and blow everything up when rescued.
There were some sad stories concerning rescues. One Liberator crew was doing its last raid and a shell hit the plane and it caught alight. Only four out of twelve jumped, the others couldn't make it. Three landed in the water and one in the jungle. We were involved in this rescue. One American was so thrilled to be picked up he wanted to keep our smoke float we dropped as a marker for a souvenir.
In most cases only one or two of a crew were saved, and quite often they were in bad shape. It is difficult after 25 years to remember all the details, but I do know it was most rewarding to be able to help in saving lives, instead of being involved in senseless slaughter. The look on the face of a rescued person is something I will never forget. The number of lives lost was amazing, particularly amongst the American bomber crews.
In due course we finished our tour and were posted back to Halavo Bay. Before we left the N.Z. 10th Battery Brass Band came aboard the Coos Bay and gave a concert. It was a perfect tropical night and the sound of the music across the water was incredible.
We were at Halavo Bay a short time and I received news about a posting to the Pacific Ferry Command. At the time I did not know I would not see No. 6 F.B. Squadron again, but it was the finish. I was credited with 54 missions plus other flying duties.