"We were an operating squadron again."
During
that almost idyllic but rather boring peaceful time, I maintained a desultory
correspondence not only occasionally with the family back home, but also with
Patty Cross, Elaine, and Shirley Mills.
The latter did not last. Somehow
I was just not much interested and her letters were not the breezy, chatty notes
that I got form Elaine and Patty.
Shirley’s letters tended to have a rather possessive flavor to
them. I decided that I could do with
less letter writing so, finally, I wrote her that we were not meant for each
other—a sort of “Dear Jane” letter. In
return she sent me a new portrait of herself inscribed, “To Conrad, a boy who
will always have a spot in my heart”. I
thought that would be that.
I
kept up my correspondence off and on with both Elaine and Patty, keeping them
up to date and asking about people and things at home. Elaine was the most faithful to answer. She wrote as delightfully as she talked,
often skipping blithely from subject to subject and always was interesting and
entertaining.
Around
the first of November (I did not record the exact date in my diary) every one
of us were on the ramp the day the new PBY-5s came sweeping around Bird Island
and over the bay. They were a
magnificent sight when they made one pass in formation over the base before
they peeled off to land. They were powered
by the latest supercharged Pratt & Whitney R-1830-92 engines that produced
1,450 horsepower each. That gave them
better takeoff capability, a cruise speed of 110 knots, and improved climb
capability.
There
were external changes that were obvious.
They flat sliding waist gunners hatches had been replaced by Plexiglas
gun “blisters” that also gave good visibility for anti-submarine patrols. The shaped of the rudder had been changed to
a straight trailing edge. Instead of the
silver fuselages and rudders with squadron stripes, the new airplanes were
painted a camouflage blue on the topsides and light grey on the bottom in an
effort to make the airplanes harder to see by potential enemy either from above
or below. All in all, the PBY-5s had
much more businesslike appearance than the old PBY-1s and the deep-throated
roar of those big fourteen cylinder radial engines literally sent delighted
shivers along my spine.
Our
rather sullen non-cooperation with Lt. Delaney, born of boredom and inactivity,
was suddenly forgotten. We
enthusiastically reinforced the beach crew with volunteers (me included),
splashed the big 600-pound side mounts into the water, and in record time
brought those beautiful aircraft ashore.
We were an operating squadron again.
