contact me....NOT through blogger

Please know that Blogger has made it impossible for me to respond to comments ON MY OWN BLOG or even to emails sent to me through the blog.

Please contact me directly at geneva.cheryl@gmail.com using your own email client, NOT BLOGGER.

Google has screwed everything up - I am so sorry that I have not been able to respond to your messages, be aware that your comments have been posted.  If you don't see them, please let me know...just not through Blogger.

The bigger Google gets, the more it screws things up and they are completely unresponsive to requests for help.

Typhoon Goon II

Maj Sterling L. Harrell
Capt Donald M. Baird
Capt Frank J. Pollak
1Lt William D. Burchell
1Lt Clifton R. Knickmeyer
MSgt Edward H. Fontaine
SSgt Alton B. Brewton
A1C William Colgan
A1C Anthony J. Fasullo
A3C Rodney E. Verrill

May they rest in peace.

I would love to hear from any family members or friends of the crew, or anyone at all who remembers the loss of these airmen. Thank you for taking the time to read the story of SSgt Alton B. Brewton. We would be honored to add more stories, if only we knew them.

Cheryl Fontaine
Washington State

The brother of SSgt Alton B. Brewton, Wes Brewton, recently passed away. Rest in Peace Wes Brewton.

Boeing B-29 Superfortress

The original specification for a large four-engine bomber to succeed the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress was issued by the U.S. War Department in January, 1940, but it was considerably modified some months later to incorporate increased armament and load requirements.

The contract for these XB-29 prototypes was placed with the Boeing company on August 24, 1940, and a service development order for 13 YB-29s in the following May. With America's entry into the war, a vast production program for the B-29 was initiated, involving five main production plants and hundreds of subcontractors.

The first XB-29 prototype built at Seattle flew on September 21, 1942. The first YB-29 built at Wichita flew on April 15, 1943, and the first Renton built B-29 was delivered in December, 1943. The B-29 in which Bubba was killed, serial number 44-69770, was built in Wichita in 1944.

The B-29 was first reported in action on June 5, 1944, in an attack on railway yards at Bangkok, Siam, and on June 15th, the first raid was made on Japan from bases in China. Since that date, attacks on the Japanese mainland were steadily stepped up, mainly from bases in the Marianas and on Guam, with forces of up to 450 and 500 Superfortresses.

On August 6, 1945, a B-29, the Enola Gay, under command of Col. Paul W. Tibbits, Jr., took off from the tiny island of Tinian and dropped the first atomic bomb on the city of Hiroshima and life on this planet would never be the same.

SPECIFICATIONS:

Wing span: 141'3"

Overall length: 99'

Engines: Four 2,200 HP Wright R-3350-23 eighteen cylinder, radial air-cooled engines, each engine with two exhaust-driven turbo-super chargers.

Cruise speed: 220 mph

Maximum speed: 365 mph

Service ceiling: Over 31, 850'

Low Level Fix

Alvene, It is my firm belief, based on transmittals from the Air Force, my knowledge of the aircraft Bubba was flying, and a fair knowledge of hurricanes, that the aircraft did obtain low level fix as shown in the following diagram:

An observer, positioned in the port side blister, would observe the wave action of the sea and direct the pilot to keep the aircraft in a position which would place the wind at a 90-degree angle to the longitudinal axis of the aircraft's flight path. Since the radar was inoperable, this was strictly a visual flight.
After penetrating the eye of the storm, the entire crew must have been jubilant beyond description. Then, circling in the calm eye, obtaining as much information as they could, they penetrated the southwest quadrant to exit the storm for their flight to Clark Air Force base, Luzon, Philippines.

It is my firm belief that the WB-29 underwent major stresses upon the wings and flight control surfaces which are controlled by steel cables and that they again had radio problems.

It probably took both the pilot and copilot to keep this craft on a correct heading while flying very close to the phenomally high seas. I believe many of the crew members vomited while strapped in their duty stations, due to the violent turbulence.

After they exited the storm and approached the island of Leyte, within sight of the native fighermen who were themselves heading for safety of harbor, they climbed to a higher altitude and I believe the control cables to the ailerons snapped and the aircraft went into an uncontrollable roll and before anyone could bail out, the aircraft plunged into the sea while its crew was still strapped into their work stations, and quickly sank.

Last Radio Contact

Last radio contact inside Typhoon Wilma, 320 miles east of Leyte, Philippine Islands, October 26, 1952.

"we are in severe turbulence...near the eye...radar inoperative...attempting low-level fix."




One day, while riding on a train headed for Liverpool, England, I read a letter from daddy. There was something about this letter that caused me to save it for later as I worked on the flight line. Daddy had great penmanship, almost calligraphic in style, but this letter was sloppy, as if it was written in haste. He came right to the point, "Bubba is missing!" on a WB-29 weather reconnaissance aircraft of the 54th Strategic Recon Squadron stationed at Anderson Air Force Base, Guam, Marianas Islands at 3:30 a.m. October 26, 1952 on a 14-hour over-water flight to obtain information about conditions exsting in a typhoon southwest of Guam designated Typhoon Wilma. Upon completion of the flight, the aircraft was to proceed to the Philippine Islands and land at Clark Air Force base, Luzon. During early portions of the flight, radio communication difficulty developed, but this was later remedied. At 8:20 a.m., when approximately 320 miles east of Leyte, Philippine Islands, a weather message was received from the plane. The report stated that the B-29 was in severe turbulence nearing the eye of the typhoon, that the radar had burned out, and that they were descending to obtain a low-level fix. This was the last contact with the aircraft and although immediate search efforts were initiated, the crew was reported missing when the aircraft failed to arrive at Clark Air Force base at 10:00 p.m. October 26, 1952, the estimated time of fuel exhaustion.

Weather conditions: Reports received during previous penetrations of the typhoon indicated surface winds up to 125 knots, 144 mph, category 5, and that entry into the northwest quadrant at low level would have been extremely hazardous and the sea was phenomenally high and rough. (A category 4 hurricane as measured today is the same intensity as Hurricane Andrew which hit Florida in 1992 or Hurricane Hugo which devastated the Carolinas in 1989). I felt as if someone had yanked out my guts without giving me the mercy of death. A few days later, I received another letter. "Information was received indicating that on October 26, 1952, native fishermen had witnessed a four-engine aircraft plunge into the sea and quickly sink into the water six to eight miles off San Ricardo Point, the southern tip of Leyte Island. Interrogation of the natives revealed that no parachutes were observed and concentrated efforts to recover wreckage or debris in the reported crash area were unavailing. The evidence further reveals that in all probability, the accident occurred off the southern tip of Leyte and that the plane sank intact.


Bubba (Airman First Class Alton Beverly Brewton Jr. AF17279893) and the following other brave airmen were killed:

Major Sterling L. Harrell - Aircraft commander
Captain Donald M. Baird - Weather observer
Captain Frank J. Pollak - Navigator
1st Lt. William D. Burchell - Navigator
1st Lt. Clifton R. Knickmeyer - Pilot
M/Sgt. Edward H. Fontaine - Radio operator
A/1C William Colgan - Flight mechanic/scanner
A/1C Anthony J. Fasullo -Radio operator
A/3C Rodney E. Verrill - Weather equipment operator

In September 1953, Lieutenant General Emment O'Donnell Jr., Deputy Chief of Staff, Air Force Personnel, informed daddy that the nation's highest award of appreciation, "the Accolade," signed by the President of the United States, Dwight David Eisenhower, had been awarded posthumously to Bubba and the other crew members.

Bubba and the crew of the B-29 were never found. We will never know what happened.

Six months later, Bubba was declared dead by the Air Force and a mock funeral was held August 1953 in Detroit by Air Force Personnel Affairs headquarters, 575th Air Defense Group, Selfridge Air Force Base, Michigan.

Bubba was my teacher, my big brother, mentor, and hero. No matter how many years go by, I still find it difficult to say goodbye. It would be unthinkable being black in America without a "Bubba" and I don't have to believe he is dead if I don't want to.

The eye of the storm

A radar altimeter and a radio altimeter would direct radar pulses or radio waves to the surface below. They automatically calculate the distance above the water.

The radio altimeter can be read on a screen by one of the metro's assistants. The screen is black and the altitude reading is seen on it as a green line that wiggles as the plane bounces or changes altitude. You can understand why this altimeter is called the "green worm."

When the plane got close to the storm, the pilot ordered everyone to fasten their seatbelt. All crewmen were to put on their life vests. Everything on the plane was tied down so the men would not be injured by objects flying about inside the plane as the flight got rougher. As the turbulence increased, the men in the pilot's area had to work harder to keep the plane steady and on its course.

Eventually, the space between two cloud bands disappeared and it was necessary to drop down under the clouds to keep the water below in sight. The metro's bubble window was the only one of any used. Up front, the pilot and copilot could see only the heavy sheet of rain surging down over the windows. They guided the plane partially by reading the dials on their instruments, but mostly they were kept on the right course by the voice communication with the radar officer and the metro.

Every 30 seconds the pilot could hear the metro's assistant give a "green worm" altitude reading.

"Green worm, seven fifty" (indicating 750 feet above the water).

Then the radar man followed with, "Your heading is good; eye wall bearing zero three zero degrees, thirty miles ahead."

"Green worm, six hundred" and the pilot would let him know he had heard and understood:

"Roger."

Then from the navigator: "Drift two two degrees right."

At this point, the rain that surrounded them became so heavy that the radar officer told the pilot, "I've lost the picture. I no longer have the eye wall. Recommend metro take the conn." (Take conn means to take over telling the pilot which direction to turn.)

The metro's voice came through: "Roger, I have the conn."

The pilot said: "Roger, metro has the conn."

This was punctuated by: "Green worm five fifty."

By now, the pilot had turned the switch that allowed everyone on the plane to hear what was being said by those controlling and guiding the plane. Those men who had no duties to perform during this tense period when they were entering the eye felt more comfortable knowing what was going on.

"Green worm, five hundred."

"Roger."

"Increase power 100 rpm."

"Roger" from the flight engineer. "Power increased 100 rpm"

"Roger."

Flight metro recommends coming port two zero degrees, surface winds, two two zero degrees ninety-five knots.

"Green worm four fifty."

"Your escape heading is one zero zero degrees." This came from the navigator.

"Roger, one zero zero degrees."

The metro helped the pilot keep the plane headed directly into the center of the storm by seeing that the wind was always blowing straight in toward the plane on its left side. This is because the winds inside the storm blow in a counter clockwise direciton. If you could stand outside the eye, facing the center of the storm, the wind would always be blowing against your left side. Using this information, the metro could tell the pilot when they were drifting off course by watching the wind action on the water below.

"Metro has lost sight of the water. Drop down. Green worm, four hundred. I have surface contact now. Green worm, steady at four hundred."

Up front, the sounds of the engines were drowned out by the thunderous noise of the unbelievably heavy rainfall. the plane was tossed about as they flew just over the water. Since the pilot's chair is adjustable, it is not very steady, and it jiggled as the plane vibrated. So it was very difficult for the pilot to read the dials on the instrument panel. At one time or another, the motion caused some of the crew members to become air sick. Each of them had a plastic-lined paper bag close at hand. If a man got sick, he used the bag and then resumed his work. The voices continued over the intercom.

"Green worm, four hundred. Steady on flight. Surface winds two eight zero degrees at one hundred ten knots. Green worm, three seventy five. Roger, green worm."

Suddenly, the turbulence ceased. The plane had broken through the eye wall. The pilot could hear the engines again and see out the windows. The instrument panel was clearly readable. The plane was out of the rain. They were no longer in the storm, but they were surrounded by it. They were in the eye of the hurricane.

The men were aware of rivulets of perspiration that covered them. Their flight suits were made of a special flame-resistant material for safety's sake and were normally very warm to wear. But today, they were warmer than usual. Perhaps because of the tenseness they felt while coming under the eye wall of the storm.

The metro's job now changed. He no longer was needed for guiding the pilot under the clouds. Now he had to see that the weather information was collected accurately and sent back to the ground station.

Next, the plane flew back and forth across the center of the storm to find the spot of the lowest air pressure. This was also marked on the map and radioed back with other readings from the meteorological instruments.

They circled close to the eye wall, the bank of clouds that had presented such a challenge flying in. It was a boundary line between them and the wild winds of the hurricane. Looking below, the pilot could see under the bank of clouds, back into the turbulent area they had just come through. The surface of the water was frothy there, like whipped egg whites. Inside the eye, the water surface danced in small peaks.

There were almost always birds inside of the eye of the storm. Perhaps they were caught there and swept along with the storm, or maybe they were blown in before it became so severe. At any rate, they were not strong enough to escape. It they could have crossed the eye wall, the winds and hard rains on the other side would have destroyed them, so they just flew around in the eye. Sometimes they collided with airplanes there. It was impossible for the pilot to maneuver the plane as to miss them. He could only hope one wouldn't crash through the front windshield or damage an engine or tail section.

You might expect the crew to feel a lift in spirits, relieved at having the most dangerous part of the mission over, and they did feel the tension go as they performed routine tasks inside the eye. But they knew their orders called for leaving the eye and entering the storm a second time that day.

Because of the courage and dedication of these men, weather forecasters back on land would be able to give information to the public that could save many lives.

Hurricane

The crew takes readings from their weather instruments and radios the information back to the ground station. The meterologists at the National Meterological Center in Washington, D.C., use the information to help them make weather predictions.

There are several instruments that hang down from the underside of the back part of the plane. One of these uses infrared light rays to sense the temperature of the water below. This temperature is recorded inside the plane.

The temperature of the water below the surface of the water can be measured by a BT which stands for bathythermograph. The BT is dropped from the plane and floats on the water. A thin wire carries a temperature-sensing element down through the water at the rate of 300 feet per minute. Inside the BT, the salt water from the sea starts a battery that supplies power for sending radio signals back to the plane. This radio signal changes according to the temperature of the water below. After the temperatures are taken, a water-soluble seal on the BT dissolves and the BT fills with water and sinks.

A machine inside the plane collects all data, i.e., when the reading was taken, which direction the plane was heading, at what speed, wind speed, wind direction, the air pressure, the air temperature, description of the clouds, and transmits back to the ground station.

The flight meteorologist, or metro as his teammates call him, keeps the pilot and crew informed as to the changing weather conditions. He and his assistants make reports to be radioed back to the ground weather station. If they don't receive a report from the plane every half hour, they send a message to the plane. If they get no radio response, they try other radio frequencies. If an hour and a half should go by without hearing from the plane, a search and rescue mission is planned.

When they were close enough to the storm, the plane's radar equipment gave them a good view of the cloud pattern around the eye of the hurricane. The pilot, navigator, and radar officer studied the pattern and decided which would be the best way to enter the eye. The reflection of the radar showed an almost clear eye surrounded by a circle of clouds. The picture on the radar looked like a giant donut.

Hurricanes have two kinds of motion. In the northern hemisphere, winds within a hurricane always blow around an area of low pressure in a counter-clockwise direction. This gives the storm a circular pattern. In addition, this storm mass as a whole moves across the water. The direction of this motion is not always the same. In order to predict the path of a storm, Air Force or Navy planes fly into the eye of a storm every six hours and locate the point of lowest pressure. By marking this spot on a chart, they are able to follow its direction. Using this information, meteorologists can make a good guess as to where the storm will go next. They can warn ships at sea to stay clear of that area. They can warn people on land to be ready for possible severe winds and rains that can destroy property and take lives.

They decided the best path on which to fly into the storm would be between the trailing cloud bands. The clear space between the bands would not be so rough to fly in. They could stay at a higher altitude and still see the water. After they flew closer to the eye, they would run out of clear space between the clouds and have to drop down under the clouds. Once the pilot made the decision to go ahead and enter the storm center, it was the metro's job to guide the plane safely in.