Battle of the Atlantic

During World War II the United States produced more war goods than all the Axis countries combined.  America’s production had to supply Russian, British, and American efforts against the Nazis in Europe as well as the other allied efforts in the Pacific.  At the time the United States entered the war in December 1941, there was little doubt that they were ill prepared to fight the Nazi war machine.  Well before their official entrance into the war, the United States was experiencing heavy shipping losses at the hands of Nazi U-boats. In 1942, at the U-boats peak dominance in the Battle of the Atlantic, the Allies incurred a loss of 8 ½ million tons of shipping.  To realize the full potential of the United States’ ability to supply the Allied effort against Nazis and allow the arsenal of democracy its full reign, the problem of the Nazi U-boats’ supremacy needed to be resolved.¹

By May 1943 the Nazis began losing more U-boats than the Allies were losing ships.  At that point the role of submarines for the Nazis transformed into a harasser of Atlantic shipping instead of a war winner.  There were numerous elements that went into the Allies’ success of curbing shipping losses;   Special intelligence, known as Ultra, cracking Nazi naval code was one such factor. In addition, improved radar, aircraft coverage, sonar, escort carriers, and the use of more escorts were all instrumental in the reduction of U-boat success.  For air coverage, the US Navy established several Patrol (VP) and Bombing (VB) squadrons, which were assigned the task of tracking and destroying Axis submarines along the Atlantic shipping routes.  These two distinct types of squadrons were later reassigned as patrol bombers (VPB), with the same responsibilities.

One such squadron was VP-92 (redesignated VPB-92 October 1, 1944), established December 26, 1941 in Alameda, California as a seaplane squadron flying the PBY-5A Catalina.  With no insignia and no nickname, like many of their fellow patrol squadrons, this squad started out quietly.  During the war they received no unit awards, but were credited with sinking U-94 and U-135 as well as the Vichy French submarine Le Conquerant,while tracking the whereabouts of U-boats along the shipping routes between the Caribbean and North Africa/Southern Europe.²

The World War II experience of combatants in these squadrons was far different than those of airmen facing the Japanese in the Pacific, or American fighters and bomber crews flying the hostile skies of Europe.  Nonetheless, these airmen’s contribution during the war was of utmost importance because the shipping lanes that they patrolled were the very lifeline of the allied war effort in Europe.

Unique Experience

A single war experience is seen and interpreted through two different sets of eyes, the enlisted and the officer. Unique to the aircraft divisions in the US Navy and Army, officers and enlisted men worked side by side in the planes they flew.  So in the case of VP-92, the experience of their officers and enlisted men were very similar, but each perspective of the war gives those removed by time some insight to what the experience was like.

Beginning Service

In September 1942 Donald L. Thompson joined the Navy as an aviation cadet.  At that time he was beginning his third year at North Central College in Illinois.  He was allowed to finish that year of school before leaving for basic training.  Prior to joining the Navy he had been rejected by the Army Air Force, his first choice since his older brother was already a pilot in the Army, because he was missing half a digit on his right thumb.  After some haggling he was able to convince the Navy that he could do anything with his thumb that they could do with theirs.  He was admitted.

The decision for him to be a pilot was very easy.  As a student at North Central College he took a civilian pilot training course, so he already had his private flying license.  Unlike many World War II servicemen, his interest in flying was not rooted in the glamour of Charles Lindberg’s expeditions and the new appeal of flying.  His father worked for the government in the Civil Aeronautics Authority, a branch of the department of commerce, which today is the Federal Aviation Administration. Thompson’s father introduced his sons to the airmail pilots he flew with.  At that time, the US Airmail enroute west stopped at Checkerboard Field in Maywood, Illinois, which was about 25 miles from where they lived.  It was actually an airmail pilot that gave Don his first flight when he was twelve years old.  Due to his father’s job, the influence of the airmail pilots, and the brothers’ mutual interest in planes, flying was all they talked about at home. It was “in the family,” according to Thompson, as he discussed his decision to be a pilot.

As mentioned, Don Thompson’s older brother was already in the Army Air force, where he became a B-26 pilot.  His younger brother did not pass the eye test, so he could not become a pilot, but eventually he became a plane captain on a PB1.³

Long Road Through Training

As an enlisted man in the US Navy, Robert Moran went to basic training at the Great Lakes Training Center, in Chicago, Illinois.  Once chosen to be an ordinance specialist he went to aviation ordinance training in Millington, Tennessee.  He continued on to aerial mine school in Yorktown, Virginia and finished his specialized training at advanced ordinance school in Norman, Oklahoma before joining VP-92 in Casablanca, April 11, 1943.⁴

In May of 1943 Cadet Thompson finished his junior year of college.  He began preflight training at the University of Iowa in June of that year.  After preflight training he was moved to Ottumwa, Iowa where he received basic flight training.  In basic flight training he learned to fly two types of planes, a biplane and the FNV. The FNV was a closed canopy aircraft used for night training.  After completing basic flight training he was stationed in Corpus Christi, Texas for advanced flight training.  It was there that he began flying the Catalina.

Finally, in April of 1944 Thompson was commissioned and assigned to operational training in Jacksonville, Florida.  He continued to fly the PBY because that is what he flew while in Corpus Christi.  While in operational training the pilots took off and landed from the St. John’s River in Jacksonville.  Don recalled the difficulty of landing at night.  “At night with no lights.  No lights anywhere.  You just set the aircraft up in a landing attitude and when you hit the water you dropped the power.”²Taking off from the water could also be quite a task at times.  If the wind was blowing across the plane it was necessary to use sea anchors to maintain course with the ramp to take off.  Personally, Thompson really enjoyed the seaplane.  “I liked flying off of the water.  It was really interesting.”³

Joining VP-92

Prior to Moran joining VP-92, the squad spent part of their time in the Caribbean at San Juan. In August of 1942 while operating from Camaguay, Cuba, a VP-92 crew sunk U-94.  In September of that year they lost a plane while attempting to land in Exuma Harbor at night.  They were moved to Casablanca in November and on the 13^thof the month they sunk the Vichy French submarine Le Conquerantabout 700 miles from their base.   New Year’s Eve, 1943 the squad received their first Nazi bombing raid, but no planes were damaged or crewman lost because special intelligence had warned them of the possible attack.²

When Thompson joined VP-92 in mid June 1944 they had just returned from station in Port Lyautey, French Morocco.  It was here that the squadron experienced their worst losses.  On April 11, 1943, Moran was a crewman on an aircraft that crashed on takeoff, killing the pilot and three crewmembers.⁵  Soon after, on July 6, 1943, one of the squadron’s planes came in contact with a surfaced U-boat five miles from a convoy they were covering.  Fire from the U-boat killed radioman E.J. Gibson, as well as several other crewmen, including Lt. Morris, the pilot.  Again on November 23, 1943 a plane crashed on breakwater during a depth charge run.  All hands were lost.  Finally, in March of 1944 VP-92 transferred to the British West Indies, returning to Puerto Rico in May, at which point Don Thompson joined the squadron.²

Even though Thompson joined the navy just nine months after the United States entered the war, it was not until mid-1944 that he was part of a commissioned squadron.  This was due in part to his desire to complete his junior year of college, but was mostly a reflection of the twelve straight months of training required to become a naval pilot.  The long training program was also required for Moran to become an Ordinance specialist. This is a tribute to the thorough training program that the Navy employed, which produced extremely proficient airmen.  During the entire US involvement in World War II, VP-92 only lost 3 planes and, sadly, 12 airmen with them.²

Station

When Thompson joined VP-92 he was assigned to their detachment based in Curacao.  There was no naval airbase in Curacao, a Dutch town on the coast of South America, just south of Aruba.  Their living arrangements consisted of tents with wood floors.  He recalls being very content with this setup.  “You always had some kind of a decent bed, as opposed to the army.”  He had no complaints about the food, either.  “Actually I never complained seriously about food in the Navy.  I think the crew was equally satisfied.  We always had some kind of decent food.”³

Their detachment consisted of about five or six planes.  He recalls between seventy-five or eighty men at Curacao.  This station was quite different then that of other airmen.  It was nothing like the huge 8^thAir Force in England, or the 15^thAir Force flying out of Italy, which had full-scale airbases at which to live.⁶

Overall, the Caribbean station was not like the vacation spot that we envision today.  Many islands were undeveloped and some places were just oilfields.  “It [Aruba] was nothing more than a dirty oil island.  But, of course today it is a popular tourist location,” Thompson said of his experience in Aruba.³  Islands such as this were the location of VP-92 for most of its World War II effort. This was very different from the pilots flying out of the always-cloudy skies of England or the sweltering heat of the south pacific.

In Curacao servicemen experienced temperatures between eighty-five and

ninety degrees year-round, with the temperature never exceeding one hundred or dropping below sixty-five.  Not all the detachments had the constant, pleasant weather like that in Curacao.⁷  Another of their detachments stationed in Zandrey Field, Surinam was grounded for days at a time because of the heavy, torrential tropical rain.  This detachment received a lot of criticism from their wing command for being grounded so frequently.  The squadron got its revenge though, when the commander of their wing was grounded at Zandrey Field for two days because of the weather there when he visited the detachment.²

There were losses to the squadron due to weather. In September 1942, at the detachment in Exuma, Bahamas, the weather and complete darkness caused a crash while attempting to land in the unlighted harbor at night.  The airplane was completely lost and several crewmembers were injured, but thankfully no fatalities were incurred.²

These naval airmen did enjoy the relative safety of being on U-boat patrol, especially once the Allies gained the upper hand in the Battle of the Atlantic by mid-1943.  Due to their location, however, they were completely isolated from the war occurring in Europe and the Pacific.  Because of that, they did not come in contact with servicemen of other military branches.  They ran into another naval patrol squadron at wing command or while on pass from base, but they never saw the Army of Marine Corps.

Missions

“Skill.  Knowledge. Practice.  Training.”  Those are the things Donald Thompson was most concerned with when faced with a mission.³  In the Navy, the most important thing to him was completing the mission at hand.  “You learned something on every mission,” he recalls.  In addition they took a lot of training missions to sharpen their skills.  For their missions, these patrol squadrons flew an aircraft like none other, the PBY-5A Catalina.  Perfect for their objectives, it was apt at reconnaissance/patrol missions, as well as being a naval night bomber, and a life-saving search and rescue aircraft.  The 5A model had the unique distinction of being able to take off and land on an airfield or in water.  For downed airmen or sailors drifting out in the Atlantic, the sight of a PBY was quite a blessing.⁸

When the first plane of VP-92 landed at their base in San Juan, the beaching party had never before seen such an amphibious craft.  The aircraft landed in the bay and began taxiing for the beach apron.  The beach crew panicked, thinking that they were going to run the plane straight into the concrete.  The men on the beach were amazed when the Catalina emerged from the bay on dry land with landing wheels already attached.²

This plane seemed to be the best of both worlds, effective for long-range patrol as well as bombing missions.  This 22,000-pound plane was only sixty-four feet long but had an albatross like 104-foot wingspan.  The wing-area of the plane alone was 1,400 square feet, the size of an average house in the 1940s!  It was powered by two 1,200 HP Pratt & Whitney engines.  Giving this plane its unmistakable look, its huge wing was attached by a pylon on top of the fuselage.  The Catalina only had a ceiling of 14,700 feet and a top speed of 179 mph, but could carry its crew of seven an amazing range of 2,545 miles. In case they came into contact with a U-boat or enemy ship, the plane could hold its own with two 12.7 mm machine guns, three 7.62 mm machine gun, and 4000 pounds of bombs.⁸

Throughout his naval experience, Thompson was very happy with the performance of the Catalinas he flew.  Only once did his plane fail him.  Even after the war he continued working with these aircraft as a test pilot of the next generation plane, the PBY-6.³

In these flying boats, their primary duty on missions was Anti Submarine Warfare (ASW).²  Their missions involved a single plane flying for eight hours or more, tracking U-boats. “We would go out as far as 700 miles in the Atlantic.  We knew their [U-boats] speed and direction.  We plotted them and reported them to headquarters.   We could identify them through our electronics equipment. We could identify which boat it was by the sound of the screws [sic],” Don recalls.³Being part of a crew and focusing on the mission kept one from getting lonely, but there was no security of looking out at the wing tip and having another aircraft to help watch your back.

The sonar equipment on the PBY-5A worked better the closer it was to the water. These missions were almost entirely flown below 1000 feet.  Thompson pointed out the majority of these flights was very low flying.  “For us to be flying at 200 feet was very common, day or night.  Two hundred feet above the water when you have a big wing sticking out there maybe eighty [sic] feet made for a pretty dangerous mission.”  In this way, not having a pressurized cabin was not really an issue because they never ascended into the thin air.  He recalls that he never flew above 12,000 feet during his entire career.³  This contrasts with bomber crews, who spent their eight-hour missions in the frigid temperatures at 25,000 feet above Europe.  Such low level flying for the duration of a mission was unheard of outside of naval patrol.  To fly that low in Europe or the Pacific would have been suicidal.  This outcome was true of the patrols, too.  While VP-92 was in Port Lyautey, a Catalina crashed, killing all hands, when the wing tip touched breakwater during a steep turn.²  The risk of enemy fire was rare for these Caribbean patrols, but hazards of flying so close to the water for such extended periods of time added much danger to their missions.

For these naval airmen there was no tour of duty.  They kept flying until the war was over.  Depending primarily on maintenance and rest, they flew approximately three out of every five days.  For Lt. Thompson, this added up to eight hundred missions in his career, which included his time in the reserves after the war.³  Flying these missions often resulted in experience with many different airmen.  Robert Moran, an Ordinance man in VP-92 from April 1943 to February 1945, flew with 46 different pilots while part of the squadron.⁴

Flying missions often resulted in some interesting experiences and close calls. Like all versions of American military planes in World War II, the PBY had its share of mechanical problems. Bob Moran related one such incident on his plane’s flight back to Agadir, French Morocco in July 1943.⁵  Returning from a routine mission they thought they had a U-boat sighting.  When the plane descended for closer inspection, they noticed the oil pressure of one engine drop to zero, so it had to be shut off. Still about three hundred miles from base, the plane began to lose altitude, so they started throwing out their guns and ammunition.  This still did not help.  After emptying one tank of fuel and switching to the other fuel tank, the port engine quit. At that point Moran was in the front gun turret, so he threw the ammunition out of the plane as fast as he could and got out of there.

“I worked faster than fast and got the heck out of there because that was the worst place to be,” Moran said.  The pilot, Lt. (jg) Finnie, had to make an extremely difficult dead-stick landing into fifteen to twenty foot swells. After bouncing off five or six swells, Finnie finally hit a swell that landed them in the Atlantic, still sixty-five miles from Agadir.  Luckily, such a high impact landing only popped a few rivets in the plane.  Their two-man raft did not inflate so they were left with only a four-man raft for the seven crewmen.  Luckily they had seven life jackets, so they spent a sleepless night in the plane, extremely seasick from the swells.  Buttercreams, sent by Moran’s wife, that he shared with the crew did not help their state, either.  The next morning their mechanic crawled out onto the wing of the plane, checked the first engine that had lost oil pressure, found that it had a loose oil hose, and was able to fix it despite the plane bobbing up and down from the rough sea.  Lt. Finnie primed each engine and miraculously they started.  He was able to takeoff and return them back to base where they were greeted by their fellow shipmates lining the runway and cheering for them.

Lt. Donald Thompson also recalls a similar experience that was co-piloted by the executive of the squadron.

“We had one experience where we did lose the starboard engine.  We broke an oil line in the starboard engine. I was flying actually with the executive of the squadron at the time, he was an Annapolis grad.  He had less time in the aircraft than I did.  It was a little challenging because he wanted to land as soon as we lost the engine.  I did not want to do that because I figured we could do that anytime.  So what we actually did was threw [sic] out everything, everything but life preservers and life rafts.  Threw out tools, and ammunition and everything.  Dropped 2000 gallons of gas into the water to lighten the plane.  We were three and a half hours out from the base.  We were flying at a ground speed of 56 knots for three hours just to maintain flying capabilities.  The squadron executive kept saying ‘Put it in the water.  Put it in the water.’  As long as it stays in the air I’m not going to put it in the water.  It just didn’t make any sense to me.  In fact, the skipper, Cmdr. Bob Proctor, skipper of the squadron, VP-92 at the time, came out to meet us from Curacao.  He met us maybe an hour to escort us back and we didn’t have enough fuel because we dumped so much to stay in the air that we weren’t able to get back to Curacao.  We landed in Aruba. . . .They came over from Curacao, which is maybe 45 minutes away, and they changed the engine on the aircraft before we could fly it back to base.”³

These two examples of persevering despite plane malfunctions pays homage to the skill of the pilots and crew so that there was not a worse outcome.  It is skill, without a doubt, that enabled the pilot to land the plane in huge swells and not cause more damage than popping a few rivets.  It is amazing that not a single hand was injured in these emergency landings.  Also, it is quite an act of bravery and skill for a mechanic to crawl out on the wing in fifteen-foot swells to fix the engine so that they can get back to base. The ability of the pilot to fly on one engine for three hours and land it safely is characteristic of these airmen as a result of their thorough training and how well they were able to work well under pressure.  Because of this, such exemplary acts were typical, instead of the exception.

Throughout the experience there were lighter moments for these naval patrolmen, too.  Thompson recalls a training flight to Guantonomo Bay.  Two planes flew together, one navigating the flight to Cuba, and the other navigating the return.  Once landing in the bay, Thompson’s crew stayed there while the other crew went ashore.  Lt. Thompson’s plane had a full mess of cooking utensils along with milk, steaks, butter, and everything else they needed to cook supper.  They made a big meal and after everyone was done they just threw the leftovers into the water for the fish to eat.  To pass the time they dove off of the wings into the water and swam around in the bay.  When the other crew got back to their plane they cautioned Thompson’s crew to make sure not to go into the water because it was infested with barracuda.   As he recalls, “It’s a wonder that none of us got chewed up by them [barracuda].”³

Once Nazi Germany surrendered and U-boats were no longer a threat to shipping, VP-92 was re-stationed in Quonset, Rhode Island where they were assigned convoy patrol missions as well as ASW sweeps of the entrances to New York Harbor.²  During this time they regularly came in contact with Russian spy ships disguised as fishing trawlers.  “We would go down real low and take photos of their ships.  They didn’t like that at all.  They would take a giant water hose and shoot it at us to discourage our being there and taking photos.  We could see they had munitions right on deck and we new they had electronics because of the antenna they were carrying.” Lt. Thompson recalls.³  Keeping tabs on the ally was quite a turnaround from tracking the Nazi Navy.

Relationships

Crews in VP-92 consisted of between seven and ten men.  Each crew had a plane commander, first pilot, navigator, plane captain, ordinance man, mechanic, electronics man, radioman, and one to three gunners.  It is of note that mechanics were part of the crew.  As a result, there was a very close relationship between the crew and the mechanic since the mechanic was apart of the crew and actually flew on the plane that he maintained.  Lt. Thompson recalled crew relations,

“It was very good.  Very good I think primarily because you flew in a plane with the people who maintained the aircraft.  They [mechanics] were in that plane, so they were very interested in how that aircraft flew and behaved.  The ordinance man wanted to know the ordinance was good.  The mechanics wanted to know those engines were going to continue to run. The radioman wanted to be sure his radio was working.  The Electronic Counter Measure guys wanted to be sure everything worked.  It was a family.  Relations were good.  We considered ourselves equals.”³

 

Despite this family feeling among the men there was still some separation between the officers and enlisted men.  “There is always a separation [between officers and enlisted] but it was modified by the fact that you are a family.  Of course, they [enlisted men] couldn’t do certain things we [officers] could do, but I don’t think that bothered them.  They did things we probably would have liked to have done, but could not.  It worked fine.”  Also, as an officer Thompson had to spend some time censoring enlisted mail. “There were restrictions what we could write.  I did that [censoring] for a short period of time.  I didn’t like doing it.”³

This uncomfortable feeling exemplifies the dual relationship these officers and their crew had.  In that plane they were a family, concerned with their objectives and confident in the abilities of those around them.  Certain times, whether it was in their separate dining situations or officers having to censor mail, they were all obliged to the rules of the US Navy.  Nevertheless, it is a mark of respect to these enlisted men and officers alike that they had such mutual admiration for each other’s ability to do their assigned task, no matter what the situation.

There was also maintaining relationships from outside their station, correspondence with friends and family.  Thompson wrote letters home and communicated regularly with about three friends in addition to his brothers.  One of his friends was in a bomb squadron as a crewman in a B-24 that went down in the dense jungle during the Battle of Iwo Jima.  Just two or three years ago the plane and its crew were found.  After the long process of identifying the crewmembers and finding their relatives, Don was able to attend his friend’s funeral this year, almost sixty years after the war.³  Like servicemen during World War II, Don Thompson lost several friends, an unfortunate aspect of war that is difficult to deal with.

Especially in the isolation of the Caribbean, letters were the way to find out what was going on in the various Allied efforts.  Donald Thompson’s older brother flew B-26s for forty missions over Europe. “He had a very tough experience in the military that I didn’t envy. He was a career man, though, so he enjoyed it.”³

There was a similarity and common bond between all commissioned men regardless of where they were stationed around the world or what they did.  There was a deep certainty of the cause for which they fought.  Lt. Thompson may not have had the same experiences as his brother, Col. Thompson, but the common large-scale objective for all men during wartime has forever linked them and produced mutual respect for what their fellow servicemen did.

Downtime

The men of VP-92 and its fellow patrol squadrons completed missions much more frequently than those men flying over Europe or in the Pacific, but they were still afforded with an appropriate amount of downtime which they spent a number of ways.

Between missions, when restricted to base, the men usually just played cards or exercised.  Thanks to the pleasant weather in their tropical station, they all spent time swimming in the ocean or chasing iguanas on the beach.  Staying on the island but venturing from base allowed them the chance to explore Wilhemstock, a Dutch town on the island of Curacao.³

While stationed in Curacao, they would take passes and visit Caracas, Venezuela, usually every other week or every third week. To get there they had to fly from Curacao to port of La Guira, about an hour and a half away, which had a landing strip on a hill.  If the wind was right they had to land down hill.  Once the intricacies of landing were accomplished, they took a cab into Caracas.  At that time the cab fare was $15 or a carton of cigarettes, which only cost them a dollar, so they always took a carton of cigarettes for the cab driver.  They ended up spending a lot of time in Caracas.  “It was a very interesting and beautiful city,” Don recalls.  “We usually walked around, shopped.  See [sic] the sights.”  They didn’t have interactions with the natives of Venezuela, though; Caracas was still primarily populated by people in the oil industry.  Other times spent off duty they would go to the water and shoot sharks with their .45 pistols, about which Don mentioned,  “It was pretty hard to get them when they’re underwater, but it was good practice.”³

These servicemen had no trouble filling their downtime with various activities.  Unfortunately they did not have any interaction with other servicemen, so knowing the feelings and views of other men in the war was restricted to what was related to them in letters from friends stationed elsewhere. Also, they did not have the luxury of being in a Caucasian area of the world, so there was not much contact with natives.  There were no women to date or marry, such as existed for American servicemen in Italy, Australia, England, or France.  Downtime for VP-92 was spent strictly with the other men of the squadron.

Reflections

Almost sixty years after the experiences of World War II, reflecting on the war is still a mixed bag.  Ordinance man Robert Moran is still reluctant to relate his “liberty experiences,” as he put it.  This is understandable considering that he was a crewman on one of the VP-92 aircraft that crashed in Agadir, killing several members of the crew.  Also, he experienced the more difficult years on patrol, when their squadron exchanged fire with U-boats and one of their aircraft was shot down, resulting in more casualties.   Coming to grips with these horrible experiences is a difficult thing, but nonetheless Bob Moran is proud of his service for United States.⁴

On the other hand, Lt. Cmdr. Donald Thompson is sure of what he did during the war, but realizes he had a better experience than many other men. “Needless to say I wouldn’t have traded places with anybody that had to sleep in a foxhole or live outside.  I had it much smoother than that.  I was very happy in the Navy.  I wouldn’t have preferred to do anything else,” he explained. Happy with the role he played, Don would have been willing to do it again but realizes that other military personnel would not say the same due to their undesirable experiences.  His satisfaction with the Navy was enough so that he became a member of the US Naval Reserves, finishing twenty years of service and retiring as a Lieutenant Commander.

One thing that rings true, especially when asking Don Thompson, is that World War II had to be fought.  “Definitely had to be done. . . .We had to fight World War II.  We definitely had to.  I had no qualms about doing what I was doing.  Thinking it was right.”  Furthermore, Thompson’s great convictions for the importance of World War II has interested him in the United States military actions since then.  “At that time we thought it was the war to end wars.  The Great War, the Great Generation, I thought it should have been the war to end wars.  We have had some wars since that we shouldn’t have had, certainly.”³

Looking back on himself from that time Lt. Cmdr. Thompson does not think he was naïve, but that everyone did indeed mature from the experience.  “Everyone that goes into war and into the service matures to some extent.  You have to for the simple fact of going through basic training.  That is a real maturity builder.  I’m sure that I matured appreciably during my time in the war.”³

Also, being this far removed from the war has caused a mix of reflection on the war.  Moran still contributes some things from the war, supplying narratives to www.npnavy.org, as well as websites discussing the PBY.⁴Almost sixty years after the war, veterans are rapidly passing away. Due to this, Moran is also very willing to discuss his wartime relationships with the children or grandchildren of these men, who are interested in the lives of their grandfathers from the war.

Thompson is not reminded of the war, nor does he discuss it much anymore.  It has been almost forty years that he has been out of the service.  He feels that if he were still on the east coast, like Bob Moran is, he would be more frequently reminded of the war because there is a lot more military action there and because that is where he spent his time in the reserves.  “There aren’t a lot of people that I can discuss military life with around here.  The fellas that I went to military service with are disbursed so greatly that I don’t see them.  There are just two or three Pearl Harbor survivors here that I still visit with. We don’t really discuss the military much anymore.”³  For him, the war was an experience and the military was a career he maintained for twenty years.  He is happy with his military service but time has removed him from the experience.

Conclusion

The service of these men is exemplary of the Allied success in this last Great War.  The United States armed services can be credited with preparing the servicemen to complete their objective under extreme pressures of total war.  The commonality between these servicemen, regardless of branch, was their belief in the American freedom and how willing they were to fight for that.  For this reason, the American servicemen not only worked under pressure, but persevered, such as a mechanic crawling out fifty feet in fatally rough seas to fix an engine, or a pilot flying on one engine for three hours to get his crew safely to land.  In their most basic sense, these acts are just as admirable as those of combatants in Europe or the Pacific.  They are examples of true character.

Overall, there is no parallel to the experience of the servicemen in the Caribbean.  The weather was similar to what the Allies dealt with in the Pacific and playing cat and mouse with the U-boats was common to the men fighting Nazis in Europe, but the overall experience in the Caribbean was one of a kind.  Camaraderie and sense of family between officers and crew were present within bomber crews as well as the patrol crews, but unlike the bombers, the mechanic was one of a patrol aircrafts crewman.  Unlike other theaters, the men in the VP-92 only had each other’s company.  There were not women to date when they left base.  They did not have GIs and marines with which to swap stories, so their WWII view was restricted to what they heard through the news and what their friends stationed elsewhere related to them through letters.  Unlike Naval ship crews, that could have thousands of men, giving seamen the ability to meet new guys all the time, their patrol detachments were as small as two planes, which meant as few as thirty personnel at one’s base of operation.  It did not take very long to know everyone.  Plus, they did not lose many servicemen during the war, thankfully, so there was not a lot of opportunity for breaking in replacements.  Finally, at the end of the war, ironically, VP-92 continued to be grounded by weather, but it was because of snow and ice on the planes while in Quonset Point, RI, instead of tropical storms in the Caribbean.  Such a change in climate was very rare for any serviceman during their duty, but the 7^thInfantry who saw duty in Alaska but spent most of their time in the South Pacific also held this distinction.

When the United States entered the war, they promised a policy of ‘Germany First.’ With this attitude came the need for the majority of supplies to go to Europe, to supply the American and British in the west as well as the Soviets in the east.  In this situation, the United States was almost exclusively supplying the Allied war effort due to its industrial capacity.  Patrol bombing squadron were vital to this lifeline, whether it meant protecting the ship convoy, plotting the U-boats location and heading, or destroying any Axis threats that may lie out in the Atlantic to cripple the Allied shipping efforts.  As one element of the Allied effort in the Battle of the Atlantic, the patrols were able to stem the losses of shipping at the hands of the Nazis. Without the Allies taking control of the Atlantic, the U-boat supremacy would have greatly changed the outcome of the war.

VP-92 and its fellow patrol bombing squadrons is a little told story of World War II.  Commentary on the experience of Normandy, Okinawa, and other large battles are widely known, but not the Battle of the Atlantic.  This is due to several reasons.  Most big battles are measured in thousands of American lives lost and the horrible experiences of those that lived and died.  The losses in the Battle of the Atlantic were measured in millions of tons of shipping, which unfortunately overshadows the lives that went down with those cargo ships.  These human losses are very few compared to the thousands that died at Normandy or Okinawa. To a certain extent it is understandable that the experience of patrol bombers in the Caribbean have not been told because it directly affected so few servicemen.  In the big picture, however, these servicemen did a job that enabled all Allied personnel in Europe to do their job, while providing a unique wartime experience.  For the freedom of our United States, for the freedom of the world, and to change the course of the world for which we will all benefit for the rest of time, these men and all other Americans, civilian and military alike, united to serve this country for its true cause, and enabled the Arsenal of Freedom to reign supreme.

 

Bibliography

1. Russell, Cdr. Jerry, USN.  Ultra and the Campaign Against U-boats in World War II.  Studies in Cryptography, NSA, Document SRH-142.  Record Group 457, Records of the National Security Agency. May 20, 1980.
2. Roberts, Michael D..  Dictionary of American Naval Aviation Squadrons Volume 2: The History of VP, VPB, VP(H) and VP(AM) Squadrons. Naval Historical Center. Department of the Navy. Washington, DC.  2000.
3. Thompson, Cdr. Donald L., USN. Interview with Jack Pennuto Jr. Montgomery, IL.  March 30, 2002.
4. Moran, Robert, USN.  “Re: VP/VPB-92.” Email to Jack Pennuto Jr. April 5, 2002.
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6. McManus, Dr. John.  Deadly Sky:  The American Combat Airman in World War II.  Novato, CA:  Presidio, 2000.
7. Curacao Weather. Chart.  April 23, 2002.  <http://www.orrin.org/>.
8. PBY-5A.  Photos.  April 21, 2002.  <http://www.pby.com/>.
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