The Last Mission: A Love and War Story All About Pete and Jane, a Pilot and Nurse of World War Two with the Famed Flying Tigers 1941–1942

Copyright © 2013 Gene Spencer.

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Book Cover Designers: Nova-Gene

Cover Picture P-40 taken August 1979 @ Oshkosh

By Dick Phillips, Burnsville, MN

ISBN: 978-1-4908-1888-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-1887-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-1889-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013922054

WestBow Press rev. date: 12/30/2013

Acknowledgments

To my wife of 48 years, my Nova lovingly supported all the endless hours developing this work, patiently listening to my forwards of the day. She encouraged me to continue when the years turned into decades with no completion in sight. It is easy for me to write, without her this book may have never been completed. Without our love, the emotions written within would never have been so real as to inspire me to tears as I typed the words.

This book is dedicated To

The (AVG) American Volunteer Group of the Flying Tigers and to honor those members who gave their all for others in peril in a far away land, and for the good old USA, Mom’s apple pie and for the freedom in this land they so loved.

Here They Are Honored For Their Supreme Sacrifice:

1. Atikinson, Pete W., 2. Armstrong, John Dean, 3. Baugh, Marion F., 4. Blackburn, John Ed, III, 5. Christman, Allen Bert, 6. Cole, Thomas J., Jr., 7. Donovan, John Tyler 8. Fauth, John Edward, 9. Foshee, Ben Crun, 10. Gilbert, Henry G., 11. Hammer, Maax C., 12. Hoffman, Louis, 13. Jones, Thomas A., 14. Leibolt, Edward J., 15. Little, Robert L., 16. Manglebury, Lacey F., 17. Martin, Neal G., 18. Merritt, Kenneth T., 19. Newkirk, John Van Kuren, 20. Petach, John Emil, 21. Swartz, Frank W., 22. Sandell, Robert J., 23. Schiel, Frank Jr.

Contents

Preface

Chapter 1   Trade Winds to Burma

Chapter 2   Rangoon, Burma

Chapter 3   A Romantic Desires

Chapter 4   Toungoo Tragedies

Chapter 5   Making of an Air Force

Chapter 6   Bored in Burma

Chapter 7   Rumors of Invasion

Chapter 8   Parting

Chapter 9   First Combat

Chapter 10   On to China

Chapter 11   Eye of the Storm

Chapter 12   The Blessing

Chapter 13   Toss of the Dice

Chapter 14   One Day at a Time

Chapter 15   Valor is the Spirit of the Heart

Chapter 16   Hail and Farewell

End Notes

Historical Appendix

Written Sources

Recorded Documentary Sources

Preface

The idea of my book began in 1989 when I began collecting period books, magazines, and current books by the famed American Volunteer Group, the Flying Tigers. Once I read about a nurse named Jane, and a pilot nicknamed Pete falling in love, I wanted to know more about this courtship, this love, during a time of war and destruction. Who were these actual people, how did they meet, when did they fall in love, what made them laugh, give them joy, and were they first rate, you know, class-A customers? How did they overcome their disappointments, manage their fears with death knocking at the gate.

It wasn’t long before I realized, this was truly a part of the Flying Tigers saga that has never been told. I must admit from the beginning I felt it was part of my destiny, like I was supposed to do this, one that must be completed with as much historical facts as could be gathered.

I started a timeline from only sources that were credible and from people who were there. What it revealed was the story of two people falling in love at a time of tragic occurrences in world history. From a one-line find to a small paragraph, the story of Pete and Jane slowly emerged from the past.

Each time I completed a rough manuscript, I would find a new piece of this history which would require a total rewrite. Factual information became for me the most important commitment to the unfolding of their story.

In September of 1999 I flew to San Marcos, Texas for the Confederate Air Force Air Show, which, that year was sponsoring the AVG Flying Tigers Reunion. Amazingly, my hotel was next to the one housing the Tigers making it easy to find the hall being set up for the reunion. Talking with the organizer of the reunion, I asked if I could get in when the reunion started. No, of course not, was his answer. After a long silent minute he asked, Where are you from?

Oh, a place you probably never heard of, Valparaiso, Indiana.

I don’t believe this, he spouted, my mother’s from Valparaiso. When do you want to get into the reunion?

Allowed by chance or luck and maybe even fate, I was able to give a very rough, home printed copy of this manuscript originally titled, Straight from the Tigers Mouth, and using character names Jeff and Emily to Jane at the reunion. The next day at the air show she asked if I planned to have the book published. I answered, If I can find a publisher. I was surprised when she stated, You should use our names. As she wished, I have.

Jane had many requests for her and Pete’s story. Look Magazine being one of them. She never shared the precious time she and Pete had with anyone. The Last Mission is the only written source which represents their time with the Flying Tigers.

Please be aware that the geographical places and occurrences have been put in a timeline to the best of my abilities, and were added from period writings. This novel is a work of historical fiction, and all personal conversations are from the author’s imagination. Recent discovery of Pete’s diary and some of their love letters have confirmed the spirit of what is written and the historical content therein.

The Last Mission is based on a true story of love and adventure

CHAPTER 1

Trade Winds to Burma

Emma Jane Foster

Music from the past seems to open the door of time as each note and each lyric recalls vivid memories of yesterday’s treasures. Some bring happiness, others tears, and some warm my soul while others tug at my sanity. They all have one thing in common, the best and worst are always one. I guess it’s a paradox of good versus evil, happiness versus sadness and love versus loneliness. Strangest of all is how time is suspended, from my youth until this moment in the latter part of my life. Through one door I am ten years old while through another I’m wrinkled and have gray hair.

The music filling my home today is of my choosing, songs that are so cherished that I play these only once a year. It’s from a time when what will befall me in life is revealed moment by moment. When yesterday was my past and tomorrow holds all my dreams.

It’s not that I’m sentimental or even old fashioned. It’s the moments that are left behind that have passed through the keyway of my locked doors when I least expect them. Before I’m even conscious of my thoughts, I find myself smiling with joy, and at times crying with sadness. A perfect photograph of one second of my life, so vivid before my eyes, and I’m there again.

My arrival over San Francisco is at 2:00 a.m. All I can see is the illumination of the streetlights tracing the main streets down to the bay where they end in darkness. In the distance the lights are silhouetted to a faint glow on the Golden Gate Bridge by the fog surrounding it. The plane circles only once before the stewardess announces we are landing. The streetlights slowly become brighter as we descend. Below all I can see is darkness, which means we must be over the bay. I feel the plane bank and the landing gear lower and lock as we level out. The nose of the DC 3 raises a little as the wheels touch the runway. Almost as soon as the tail wheel of the plane softly touches the runway, the pilot cuts the speed of motors.

The distance I have traveled seems unreal as the airplane taxis toward the terminal. Tired from my journey, I constantly yawn and wipe tears from my eyes while waiting to claim my luggage. Finally, with luggage in hand I drag it and myself to the front of the terminal. Arriving alone in a new place is confusing to say the least. Finding the information office closed is not a surprise. After all, it’s 3:00 a.m. Posted outside the office are a bus schedule and map showing how to get to the bus stop. Some of the passengers from my flight are already loading the bus when I arrive.

As I approach the bus driver I ask, "Do I buy the ticket from you?

Yes, he replied.

How much is one?

Two dollars, miss.

As I hand the fare over to the bus driver I ask, How far is it to town?

He informs me it is a ten-mile ride to the bus terminal.

Thank you, I reply, before boarding the bus.

I’m surprised the streets of downtown San Francisco are so deserted. After grabbing the first cab I see outside the bus terminal, I direct the driver to take me to Bellevue Hotel.

While signing in at the main desk, a bellboy brings my luggage in from the cab. I am relieved when the desk clerk says, Your reserved room is ready. Also, Miss Foster, there is a message for you. He reaches into a message bin behind the counter and hands me an envelope. After opening it, I read that a meeting is scheduled at 9:00 a.m., in just a few hours.

Tired and somewhat lethargic, I’m finding it hard to overcome these feelings while getting ready for my meeting. Overly tired from my long, cross-country journey, I was unable to get to sleep. I feel like I’m in a daze as I close my door and slowly turn to make my way to the stairway. Each step I take toward the meeting room seems to shake me, to arouse me out of my sheepish stupor. By the time I arrive I have found my second wind. Slowly entering, I see a single table with a middle-aged man sitting behind it. Miss Foster, he says.

I nod yes before answering.

Please sit down here, he says as he points to the chair across from him. I need to go over this contract before you sign. As Dr. Gentry explained, this contract with CAMCO is for your services in Burma and China for one year as a nurse. All expenses including travel to the Far East and back will be paid by CAMCO. Written here is the two-hundred dollar monthly wage you agreed to. All we need to know is where to send them. It’s best if a deposit is arranged monthly in a bank here in the states. You may be on the move most of the time away from established company offices. Would you like this to be arranged?

Yes, I answer.

Well then, sign here and everything will be arranged.

Before leaving I am informed of a second meeting at 1:00 p.m. All further questions will be answered then. Thank you, Miss Foster, he says. Here is a copy of your contract. See you then.

At 1:00 p.m. the meeting is started by a man introducing himself as Dr. Richards. Welcome to San Francisco, he begins, and to the First American Volunteer Group. I was hired, as you, to be part of this medical group. We shall have time later to become acquainted. Let me introduce Bill Prawley, president of CAMCO.

It’s good to be able to talk to you before your departure, Mr. Prawley says. CAMCO stands for Central Aircraft Manufacturing Company. Our head office is in New York City and will be administrating everything for you. Your destination will be Rangoon, Burma. There you will form your medical team at a small airbase. Most of the material you will need has arrived in Rangoon, at our aircraft assembly plant. Each of you will be given $100 expense money. This will be accompanied by a list of personal things you will need for your time spent in the Far East. Use some of the expense money for these items. Now let me introduce Colonel Chennault, head of this volunteer group, Colonel."

The colonel gets right to the point. Your medical group along with the other groups made up of mechanics, pilots, and ground personnel have been assembled. Together in the Far East we will find it necessary to become a family. We will gather at a small airbase were the housing is ready for our arrival in Burma. Like the American pilots flying in Britain, they are a part of the Royal Air Force; likewise we will be a part of the Chinese Air Force. There is not a lot more I can tell you now except to say welcome to our group of volunteers. I will not see any of you again until we gather in Burma, now, let me bring up Dr. Lewis Richards. He will be in charge of your group until you arrive in Burma. Doctor, please finish this meeting with all the information you have about your medial group, and answer any questions.

As Bill Prawley and Colonel Chennault depart, Dr. Richards begins. Your ship will depart tomorrow for our destination in the Far East. The ships name is Jagersfontein, a Dutch-owned passenger freighter. All the American volunteers will be given passports that list them as farmers, electricians, and so forth. The reason for this is to ensure your safety on this cruise. The Japanese are at war with China. They are determined to win at any cost. This organization that we now call, The American Volunteer Group" will cause the Japanese a great many setbacks. Please remember not to talk about our group anywhere you can be overheard. We will meet here tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m. for passports and final information. Now I would like to introduce each one present. This is Samuel Prevo and Joseph Lee, our two flight surgeons. Our dental surgeon, Bruce Everett, is on my right. The nursing staff is Josephine Stewart, Emma Foster, and Robert Gallagher. The medical orderlies and clerks are Thomas Henson, Charles Cribbs, John Shaw, and Hugh Viverette. Doctor Tom Gentry, who is not present, will be the head of this group in China. Any other support personnel will be hired Chinese trained for work in our hospital.

Each of us has a short time to talk before the meeting ends. Jo, as she likes to be called, and I are the only females in the medical team. We take to each other for the emotional security we find in our common bond.

Jo, I’m going out to get what’s on the personal items list. Would you like to come along and get acquainted?

Yes I would, she replied. I have felt out of place here in San Francisco, leaving me strangely lonely. Your offer is a comfort, and I must say timely. Can we meet after we receive our expense money? I’d like to change clothes.

That’s a good idea, I replied. We agreed to meet at two thirty in the lobby.

I don’t want Jo waiting for me, so I will leave early to meet her. I am totally surprised to see her waiting when I step off the elevator.

Been waiting long? I ask. Only about two days, she replies. Her answer is cute.

We walk westward on Eddy Street then we turn north onto Market. This street is lined with every kind of store one can think of to explore. Our first goal is to purchase everything on our list. Then, true to our feminine nature, we visit every dress and shoe shop we come across. Jo and I become so over loaded with boxes and bags we decide to take everything to our rooms, than to explore San Francisco.

At Market and Powell Street we come upon the cable car tracks and turnaround. Looking up the tracks we can see the returning cable car coming towards us. Jo and I both know from the newsreels, its first come first served for seating. Like old pros, we jump on, taking a seat on the long bench before the car stops. As we hoped, our seats are near the front until the cable car crew turns the car around. With the ringing of its bell, and with a jerk the cable car begins to