Mission to Britain

by J Eugene Porter

  The takeoff was surprisingly smooth, and his radio etiquette was perfect. The lieutenant trimmed the plane to an altitude of six thousand feet and headed due north. At the turning point above Athens, he headed west for the landing at Montgomery which he hit right on time and landed with barely a chirp to the tires. Again, Overstreet couldn’t find fault with anything the kid had done on the entire flight. A follow-me truck appeared at the end of the apron to the airport. Brand taxied to the designated area where a fuel truck was waiting. Overstreet was amazed at the timing. Usually, he had to go into flight operations and badger some poor plow boy to get the gas truck for the navy plane. They usually had to wait up to an hour for a truck to appear and forever to fuel the plane. This time, everything was different.

  The fuel truck was from the army. They used the airport for some of their training as well. A group of P-40 fighters was parked next to them, and a staff car came up to the SNJ. An army colonel got out with a briefcase and walked to the plane just as the two navy pilots were getting out.

  The navy officers stood at attention and saluted the colonel who had a captain with him. Each had the wings of army pilots, so they were going to be handled as fellow pilots and not vagabonds, at least that’s what Overstreet thought.

  The colonel returned the salute and addressed the commander first. “Commander Overstreet, I presume?”

  “Yes sir. I’m Overstreet, how may I be of service to the Colonel?” Overstreet did not smile but was taken aback by the greeting.

  “You must be Lieutenant Brand?” The colonel looked at him with a smile which also disturbed Overstreet.

  “My name is Colonel Blakely, and I have been tasked by General Arnold to take you to a secure location and for you to read what I have in this briefcase. I’ve also been told to make sure any communication facility you require will be made available to respond to this request. I have no idea what it is nor do I want to know.”

  The colonel looked again at Commander Overstreet who appeared to be confused at the situation. He spoke in the clipped tones of a Boston native and did not smile. “I’ve been informed that you gentlemen are to receive the best service the army air force can provide. I’ll have the captain ensure your plane is serviced and ready to depart whenever you wish. I have also been told to tell you, Lieutenant, that Chief Petty Officer Schmidt is monitoring any communication you require, and Admiral King’s office has been notified of your safe landing.”

  The colonel then smiled at Overstreet and said, “Commander, if you and the lieutenant will get in the car, we’ll go to my office so the lieutenant can review these documents.”

  The naval officers did as ordered, and the army captain took charge of the plane. They drove to an army building at the end of the runway, which was one of those new temporary wooden buildings with tar paper walls and roofs that were always either too cold or too hot. This being April in the south, it was just about right for once. Once they entered, several officers looked straight at the navy flyers as well as two MPs who stood in front of the colonel’s office.

  Once inside, the colonel opened the briefcase and gave Brand a dozen pages of long teletype paper with Top Secret headers on each page. The colonel asked if he and the commander should leave the room, but as soon as James read the first paragraph, he said, “Colonel, there is no need for either of you to leave the room. It will take me a few minutes to read this. There is a bit of decoding I must do, but it’s minimal. Colonel, I just need to sit down, and if I can borrow a pencil, that would be helpful.”

  The colonel gave him a pencil. He and Overstreet not knowing what Brand was doing decided to leave him alone. When the colonel exited the office, he looked at the two MPs and told them that only he or the commander was allowed in the room until ordered otherwise. Again, the officers and enlisted men in the jammed building wondered what was going on.

  *****

  The colonel took the commander to a small break room where each filled a mug of coffee. The colonel now looking to each side got close to the navy flyer and asked the commander, “Who the hell is this guy? I got a personal call from General Arnold, and he told me in no uncertain terms this teletype was coming. Only I would get it, and I was told that I would not read it and to be sure this young lieutenant got his hands on it immediately upon landing. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

  The commander, looking like the co-conspirator he was, told him, “Colonel, this kid was put in my lap a few days ago by the admiral in charge of naval aviation. I was told to check him out in as few days as possible and pin wings on him if he met my muster. I was also told not to ask any questions or to snoop around. He has two Marine guards with him, and both look like they would rather shoot you than say hello. He even has his own communications man following him around, the guy named Schmidt.”

  The colonel did not smile, but Overstreet could see he was buying most of the story so far. “I can tell you this, the kid is a natural pilot and has several hundred hours in both single and multi-engine planes. He can fly, navigate, and when I asked him a few questions about aeronautics, he taught me things I didn’t know.”

  Overstreet looked around the room, smiled once more, and said very quietly, “I’ve heard rumors the kid has already sunk a German submarine and met with the president. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

  The Colonel picked up his mug and took a sip. In his most quiet voice, he said, “Well, I’m glad he’s on our side and that he’s your responsibility and not mine.”

  *****

  About thirty minutes went by before Brand opened the door. He asked the MPs to bring the colonel and the commander back to the office. He closed the door, and in about two minutes it opened again with both officers looking at the young man leaning against the desk doing some more scribbling in the margins. Brand looked up and went to attention. “Sorry, sir, just a few more corrections and I’m done. Can I go to your teletype room to send this?”

  The colonel looked at Brand and said, “I don’t know if I have anyone with the proper clearance to do this, Lieutenant.”

  “That’s not a problem, sir, I will send it personally if you would just take me to the room. Sir, it would be best if you made sure no one else is in the room while I send the communication. You two can stay, and I’ll tell you a little about the situation.”

  The colonel took him to the communications room and ordered everyone out. Brand went over to the teletype machine and started typing. He entered the header message to where the message was going and the start words which activated a set of top-secret formats on the receiving end of the message. It took him about ten minutes to send the message and receive a reply. Brand signed off then sent a quick message to Schmidt in Pensacola which was acknowledged quickly. He turned toward the two officers and stood.

  “Thank you, Colonel, and I’m sorry to inconvenience you and your command. Apologies to you too, Commander, for delaying the flight. I can only tell you a few things because of the level of secrecy involved, but the message you handed me came from the Chiefs of Staff and involves planning activities and near-term actions for our war against Germany. I can tell you General Marshall has been in England and is now back in Washington where he and the other chiefs have been working on the massive logistical efforts required to win the war. I’ve had some recent experiences which they thought would be useful in their efforts and that’s all I can tell you.”

  Both officers were stunned by the news and by the young man standing in front of them. Who was this kid? What does he really do? Both men had many questions, but they realized there would be no answers to their questions.

  Just as the colonel was about to open his mouth, an aide banged on the door asking to see the colonel immediately. The colonel opened the door and brusquely said, “What the hell is so important?

  “Sorry, sir, but there is an Admiral Willson who wants to talk to you and the commander.”

  “OK, is he on my line in the office?”

  “Yes sir, he is waiting,
and appears to be in a hurry, sir.”

  The three officers and the aide walked back to the colonel’s office, still being guarded by the MPs. Once inside, the colonel picked up the phone.

  “Sir, this is Colonel Blakely, I have commander Overstreet here in my office. Do you wish to speak to him, sir?”

  “Thank you, Colonel, that would be most kind. Please put the commander on the line.”

  “This is Commander Overstreet. How can I be of service to the Admiral?”

  “Commander, do you know who I am?” Willson wanted to make sure the commander knew who he was dealing with so there would be no delay in taking his orders.

  “Sir, you are the chief of staff to the chief of Naval Operations, Admiral King, sir.”

  “You are correct, Commander. I want you to listen very carefully to what I’m saying. First, you are to stay the night at Montgomery. I will talk to the colonel when I have finished. He will take good care of you and Mr. Brand. Second, tell me how the lieutenant is doing in his flight training and shoot straight with me.”

  “Admiral, he is doing very well. I don’t know how much I can teach him. The only thing he needs experience with is combat flying, shooting at target drones, and carrier or seaplane landings, depending on his specialty.”

  “So, Commander, in your estimation in only two days, he is qualified to be a naval aviator?”

  “Sir, I would like to have him for a few more days to do some overwater check rides plus time in a Wildcat shooting at some targets, but based upon his skill level, yes, I would approve.”

  “Commander, I’m not sure I can give you much more time with him, which will make him very angry but he’ll get over it. Fly back to Pensacola in the morning, and I will get some additional time carved out for him but not much. He is young and can take the extra hours I’m sure but keep an eye on him. Also, one last question, did you see the information he was sent or did you see what he sent out?”

  “No sir, neither the colonel nor I saw the information. The colonel may have seen the original message from Washington, but I believe the communications man saw the header and placed it in a confidential envelope and sealed it as required.”

  “Commander, ask the colonel what I just asked you and hold the phone up so I can hear his reply.”

  Overstreet did as ordered, and the colonel replied that he did not see the contents of the communication because it had been sealed per instructions.

  “Commander, tell the colonel thanks and ask the commanding officer of the MPs to have a chat with the communication officer to ensure he did not read any of the messages. If he believes he has, he is to be arrested and sent to Washington for a chat with Army Intelligence. Understand, Commander?”

  Overstreet held up the phone and repeated the admiral’s words. The colonel got close to the phone, stated he would do as ordered and would send confirmation of this conversation to General Arnold’s office.

  “One last thing, Commander, let me talk to Brand.”

  James got on the phone, and the conversation became one-sided, ending with James saying, “Thank you, Admiral, and if there is one thing you could do for me as a favor. Could you get Commander Overstreet out of Pensacola and onto a carrier where he could help stupid young pilots like me win this war?”

  James smiled and said “Thank you, Admiral. I look forward to seeing you in a few days.”

  Overstreet and Colonel Blakely were now even more stunned by the lieutenant.

  James asked, “Colonel, since we’re going to be here for the evening, is there some good home cooking we could get our hands on to celebrate the pending orders for Commander Overstreet? I believe he will soon be heading to the west coast and places farther afield?”

  28

  20 April 1942

  Camp Elliott, California

  • United States Carrier Wasp (CV-7), in the Mediterranean Sea, launches 47 British Spitfire aircraft for Malta.

  • Visayan Islands, Philippines--Japanese conquest of Visayan Islands is virtually completed. Cebu and Panay are in enemy hands, although guerrillas continue to hold out in mountain areas.

  Camp Elliott was north of San Diego and had been a training base since the mid-1930s. Efforts were underway to purchase a large ranch which would soon become known as Camp Pendleton, but for now, the early combat units of the Fleet Marine Force were training at Camp Elliott. The commander of the Second Marine Raider Battalion, Lt. Col. Evans Carlson had decided on moving his new unit away from the main camp so he could conduct the type of training he thought important for his new elite Marine raiding unit.

  He had served in China and had spent some time with the Chinese Communist guerillas fighting the Japanese, so he had some different views on how to conduct training and how to fight wars. His executive officer Maj. James Roosevelt was the son of the president of the United States. The commanding officer of this Raider Battalion had at one time had been the commander of the Marine guard detachment at Warm Springs, Georgia, where the president received treatment for his polio. The Raiders were thus well insulated from official criticism, but most of the Marine establishment was not happy with this new organization.

  Since arriving in California, Flannigan had tagged along with Colonel Carlson slogging through the countryside on long marches and doing beach landings at night. He had explained to Carlson his mission was advisory only. Admiral King’s written orders presented to the Raider commander stated, “Captain Flannigan and the non-commissioned officers with him have recently attended the British Commando training in Scotland, they are to provide your command with an overview of the training the British units are receiving. If appropriate, your command may wish additional support from the captain and his team.”

  Carlson was skeptical. He had been bombarded with transfers who were totally inadequate or failed to muster up to his ideas of what Marine Raiders should be. However, he was interested in the small boat training the Marines had undergone in Scotland as well as hand-to-hand fighting techniques. Over the course of the first few days at Camp Elliott, Carlson watched with feigned indifference to what Flannigan and his men were doing with his men. His second in command, Major Roosevelt had the same opinion—these men were sent to spy on them or had other agendas which were not tied to the success of the Raiders.

  After being in California for four days, Flannigan got tired of the negativity and decided to confront the colonel, if for no other reason than to get back home to Washington. There was nothing worse in his mind than to be someplace that did not respect what you were doing or at worst, totally ignore you. He had asked Major Roosevelt for a meeting in the evening with Carlson and finally around 1800 hours was summoned to Carlson’s tent. Every member of the Raiders was roughing it for the duration of this initial training. Carlson wanted tough men. If they couldn’t handle tents that would keep you dry, what would they do when they were living in dugouts or under trees for days or weeks at a time.

  Flannigan was announced by the guard outside the colonel’s tent. He entered the dimly lit tent where he came to attention in front of Colonel Carlson. “Sir, permission to speak?”

  Carlson was famous for not believing in a lot of military order and smiled at Flannigan. “Sit down, Captain, you’re making me tired. The one thing a fighting man should do is take care of himself and expend energy only when he needs to. Sit, lay, or sleep, but be ready as the Chinese say.”

  “Thank you, Colonel. I will be brief, sir. I know you’re a very busy man.” Flannigan was still an Annapolis graduate and would always lean toward formality when confronted by a higher rank.

  “All right, Captain, what’s on your mind? Do you not agree with our training methods? Are we not paying rapt attention to what you experienced in Scotland? Or is there something else bothering you?” Carlson was known to get right to the subject for he believed in not wasting anyone’s time.

  “Sir, I have no problem with your training or the entire concept of the Raiders. I had met with some of the First Battalion in Quanti
co before they were shipped out. I think the concept is a sound one.”

  “Then, Captain, what’s on your mind?” Carlson could be very evasive and would let people get to their point eventually which would allow him time to formulate a response which was usually difficult for the other party to counter.

  “Sir, I was sent out here based on our recent experiences in Scotland with the commandos. Admiral King thought that some of the things we saw and learned would be beneficial to the Raiders. I believe you found interest in the small boat training we had as well as the hand-to-hand combat skills, but no one has come forward to request additional help or suggestions based upon what the Brits are doing. If there is no further interest, I will request that our mission is complete and we shall return to Washington.”

  Carlson looked at the captain with more interest than he usually showed most outsiders. He believed his Raider Battalion was unique in the world and his methods were also the best. He was not happy to see spies come in to supposedly help him and his men. He knew the Marine Commandant had disagreed with the concept from the first mention and that attitude continued to this day. Only the good fortune of having the president as a sponsor had made the Raiders come to life. But, the young captain was not here with any agenda that he could find and his executive officer, Major Roosevelt, had snooped around to find out the captain was a man of his word and had no ax to grind against the Raiders.

  “Captain, thank you for being candid. I hate apple polishers, gold bricks, and headquarter types who come out here to help us but are really trying to find fault. This makes me suspicious of Greeks bearing gifts, even though your only gift is experience. You helped us with your small boat training ideas and your commando hand-to-hand techniques. You also pointed out the Boy’s Anti-Tank gun is a joke, which confirms what we had thought and you gave us some new thoughts on how to set up an operation.”