The picture below is the only one I have taken on our flight home. When it came time to assign planes to those of us flying home, there was a list of those eligible. The newest pilots eliglble were to get the newest planes and on down to the oldest pilots getting the oldest planes. The theory being the older pilots would be more capable of handling the older planes. I was in the middle of the list. But when it came down to the older pilots, rank was pulled, and I was given the last choice. We were given the oppurtunity to change engines, and do anything else we thought might help. We got the plane load so as to balance, and give us a chance to get on the step. This would help for mileage, and we were worried about the long flight from Dakar to Natal, across the South Atlantic. We got it so we thought we woould make it, but just! When we got to Dakar, we were told we had two new passengers! We took off under a cloud of worry. We were on instruments the whole way. When we arrived at Natal, we couldn't see the field because of the cloud cover. We started an instrument approach for where we thought the field was. Remember, this was when we had almost no instruments by today's standards. As we broke out of the clouds, my navigator screamed there, to the left. We made a quick change of direction, and landed safely, fut on fumes!!!!
From there it was a cup of tea, and we landed in the states with no further problems.
The war in the Pacific was not over, and we were shipped to Galveston Texas, where we checked out on the b-29. By we, I really mean me. I never saw the rest of my crew until we were mustered out, and home. In Galveston, we didn't know whether we would go to the Pacific or not. But thank God for Harry Truman. He dropped the bomb, and we were soon civilians.
The next parts of this blog will start from that point until today.