Phillip Smith, Central & Western Pacific 1944-45 Patrol Bombing Squadron 26 (VPB-26)
[Amazing veteran story submitted by colleague Steve Smith]
Phillip Smith (Phil) served in the US Navy in the Pacific from mid-1944-through the end of the war.? Phil was born on a farm in Champaign County Illinois in 1918, and graduated with an engineering degree from the University of Illinois (U of I) in 1942.? He joined the Navy in 1943, and attended Ft. Schuyler’s Indoctrination course. This was one of the Navy's famous '90-day wonders' officer training programs. The Officer-in-Charge (OIC) for the Navy schools at Ft. Schuyler often made 'surprise visits' for morning muster, and apparently had initial success at delivering demerits. The candidates responded with a rotating watch; the 'duty officer' loudly proclaiming "Don Winslow of the Navy!" at the OIC's arrival. One of the famous comic books of the day happened to be Don Winslow of the Navy.
Specialized training followed indoctrination: pre-radar school at Princeton; and radar schools at MIT and Corpus Cristi Texas; and then Operational Radar School at North Island Naval Air Station (San Diego CA). Phil flew radar training missions out of North Island in war-weary SBD Dauntless dive bombers and Avenger torpedo planes. He preferred the SBD because he was sitting up high and always had a great view. In the Avenger, however he was buried in the fuselage.
Phil never learned to swim, despite the Navy's finest efforts to make him learn. He would spend the first part of the daily Happy Hour in the North Island Officer's Club pool, holding his breath and crawling on the bottom for the length of the pool. Every day the instructors rolled their eyes, said 'you're doin' great' and gave up. He eventually made it to the O'Club bar. He 'flew' through the rest of the curriculum.
Phil married Lorene Elliott in 1942, and she joined him after indoctrination training. Lorene was born in rural Dewey, Illinois and had attended the High School in nearby Fisher, Illinois. It was as much an adventure for her as it was for her husband: from rural central Illinois to New York City; Princeton, New Jersey; Boston, Massachusetts; Corpus Cristi, Texas; and San Diego (where, at the O Club, she enjoyed refreshment while watching Phil crawl across the bottom of the pool) and finally San Francisco. When Phil departed for the western Pacific, Lorene returned to the farm and Urbana-Champaign Illinois. She went to work for for Time-Life publishers in Champaign.
In 1944 Phil was assigned to Patrol-Bombing Squadron 26 (VPB-26)—the Black Cats. Designated an Aviation Radar Officer by the time he was discharged, his orders and commendations over a two year period used a variety of descriptions, including Squadron Electronics Officer; and Technical Observer while serving as a Radar and Countermeasures Officer.
VPB-26 Combat Air Crews (CAC) flew the then new Martin PBM-5D Mariner. The D-model was equipped with radar, electronic countermeasures gear, and LORAN A navigation system. Squadron aircraft were optimized for night patrols, hence the Black Cats name. It should be noted that several Navy and Marine Corps night capable squadrons also carried a 'Black Cat' squadron name. The aircraft bomb bays could be loaded with torpedos (called FIDO by the crews), depth charges, and bombs. The planes were equipped with eight .50 caliber machine guns.
Mariner operations were standard for Navy flying boats: reconnaissance, anti-submarine and anti-surface warfare, air-sea rescue, shipping interdiction, evacuating injured personnel, and hauling mail and delivering news. There were also unusual operations: at Iwo Jima on D-day plus one, a VPB-26 Mariner landed near the beach to pick up a Navy officer carrying 20,000 feet of film for delivery to the US. The operation was conducted under fire, and the crew used Jet-Assisted-Take-Off (JATO) (solid fuel) ROCKETS to shorten their takeoff run.
Apparently the military changed the acronym to RATO at a later date.
Squadron personnel quartered on seaplane tenders—VPB-26 personnel seemed to rotate between USS Cumberland Sound,? USS Norton Sound and USS Pine Island.
Seaplane tenders were part of the Naval Air Forces, but as can be seen from the photo, the PBMs and PBYs were not transported aboard the tenders. Maintenance crews were able to to perform major repairs and servicing on a (maintenance) deck aft of the hanger bay. Aircraft were moored to buoys, unless seaplane ramps/docks were available in an island port area. The tenders oversaw boat operations that ferried CACs and maintenance teams to and from the planes moored near the tenders.
The Navy kept crews informed with news reporting, and commands often published newspapers. Several seaplane tenders published crew newspapers.? These were generally tame—pin-ups of Hollywood starlets and an occasional column of fictional love advice appeared to be the raciest material.
However, squadrons often published their own papers.? The VPB-26 personnel roster included a few budding journalists, and they published the squadron newspaper: The Bilge Pump.? Bilge Pump ‘reporters’ became adept at embellishment—journalistic qualities that were developed to a high art.
The following is a VPB-26 Bilge Pump article from early 1945 while the squadron was operating near Eniwetok atoll (Marshall Islands).? Part of the squadron was already supporting Task Force 38/58 operations at Iwo Jima and Okinawa.? Background:? the article references a moored PBM undergoing maintenance (or possibly pre-flight checks) that was sunk when a torpedo (often referred to by crews as FIDOs) activated and tore loose in the plane’s bomb bay.? The unfortunate CAC 6 suffered a similar FIDO event a few months later; that plane was also lost (no casualties, fortunately), cementing their reputation as submariners.
Note: LCDR Null was the VPB-26 Commanding Officer. Skipper is generally slang for Navy and Marine Corps aviator commanding officers.
IN MEMORIUM
We dedicate this article to CAC#6 in deep sympathy and regrets for the loss of their submarine. Tragic as the fatality was to KING ARTHUR and his KNIGHTS, we were all mighty thankful that the VPB-26 personnel on watch and the CASU ordnance men were spared even a scratch. May this be the only accident ever to occur to our squadron.
The PUMP’s ubiquitous reporter, falling in line with custom, was “Johnny-on-the-Spot”and herewith proceeds to bail out his scoop from the old bilge….congrats to the pilot and three men of CAC#10 who were on watch that night, for their coolness following the action. However, we don’t feel a bit sorry for Ensign HARTLEY at the loss of his wallet containing thirty dollars. In the first place, he never should have been standing watch with his pants off. In the second place, he should never remove his pants, on watch or off, because of those ugly “Knock knees”…. Here is the dope concerning extra compensation for submarine or diving duty straight from the BuPers Manual for CAC#6 information—“All crew members will receive fifty percent additional base pay while so serving on board a submarine, except that radar men (hope DENNICK and WATTS are checked out) shall receive additional compensation of five dollars per month”….. The PUMP’s official photographer, unfortunately, was unable to reach the scene of action to get shots of the Rescue Squad at work, and regrets having no prints of the Skipper, ankle deep in brine; sitting at the FE panel testing all the switches; nor of the Personnel Officer wading through the galley up to his navel in water dead bent upon reaching his battle station at the bow hatch (incidentally, we have it on authority from crewmen who were hosts to the Pers Off On various flights in their planes that his station was NEVER forward OR aft of the galley at any time); nor of Chief OGDEN tying himself and the bow line into knots at the buoy…. The Skipper finally moved up to the pilot’s seat from the FE panel to escape from drowning and is reported to have confused the rescue squad with an order of “Up Periscope” instead of “Abandon Snip”…. You should have heard him boat his gums at losing his red baseball cap! It was gratifying to see the Captain strictly adhering to navy protocol even under stress and strain of emergency conditions by conducting himself as a Captain should in sticking to his ship until the last man went over the side. He did just that, and opened the pilot’s hatch and slipped out on to the surface of the water without dropping as much as an inch. The rescue boat picked him up in the middle of a pool of green chemical cast by a dye marker that had gotten the better of the Pers Off’s curiosity. If it wasn’t for our mature judgement and the fact that a plane was lost, we’d almost hazard a guess that the whole thing was performed as an escape from boredom or 24 bottles of beer per month, or as a publicity stunt to fill the first page of THE BILGE PUMP.
When Pacific combat ended in August 1945, fleet operations began a wary transition and prepared to move in to Japanese waters (see Ian Toll's Twilight of the Gods, book 3 of The Pacific War trilogy). VPB-26 leadership prepared for post war activity in Japan. The squadron, though, would soon redeploy for China patrols.
After the Japanese surrender, VPB-26 flew the first flying boats in to Tokyo Bay. Squadron personnel were on the third ship to enter Tokyo Bay; they watched the surrender ceremony from the USS Cumberland Sound.
When the squadron redeployed for patrol operations in China, Phil was re-assigned to ships’ company. Occupation force duty included performing shore patrol.
After his discharge Philip and Lorene farmed for a few years in Illinois. In following years Phil obtained his Master's in Engineering from the U of I; taught at Alfred University in New York state where they started their family; and he eventually worked as a professional engineer at BF Goodrich (BFG--the Other Guys) in Troy Ohio. While a Chief Engineer at the Troy plant, BFG and Japan Power Brake made an engineering partnership. In the 1970s Phil found that he was working with his Japanese counterpart--who was a Japanese veteran of the war; they had been enemies. They discovered that they had much in common--each fought for their country in the war; both returned home and started careers in engineering and achieved much professional satisfaction. Both raised their families in a relatively peaceful world. The war had clearly changed Phil Smith, as it had for millions of Americans. In many ways working with his former enemy changed him again. For one thing, he stopped saying bad things about Japanese cars......he never did buy one.....but his sons bought several..........
Lorene and Phil were married for 64 years; raised two sons and retired to a lake house that they (together) built outside of Dadeville Alabama.? They have since passed on.