In May 1943, my father completed his
six-month probationary period with the Los Angeles Police Department,
thus assuring himself a place on the force following his military
service. In June he reported to Kearns, Utah for induction and basic
training in the Army Air Force. My mother and I moved in with her parents on 70th Street in Los Angeles. I was
nine-months-old.
In the aftermath of Pearl Harbor,
nearly the entire American population became involved in the war
effort, either in the military or on the home front. It was a time
when patriotism and the desire to do one’s duty were at a zenith.
The country was flooded with patriotic slogans, images, movies. Many
joined the various military services out of that fervor. One young
enlistee said, “After Pearl Harbor, just about everybody I knew was
ready to enlist, to be drafted, to be part of a program. Very few
people didn’t feel we had a responsibility to ourselves and our
country.” Pilot Martin Garran remarked, “It was a matter of
honor, duty, family. We were exposed to a lot of propaganda. I was
defending my mother, my sister, from invasion. I never felt like a
hero. I did what I was supposed to do.” Film critic
Pauline Kael remembered, “During the war years, the whole spirit of
the country seemed embodied in Life magazine. Its covers
featured GI Joes, girls, and generals. The GIs were always
clean-cut, wonderful kids. And so were the girls they dated. This
was carried through in the movies. Everybody was patriotic and
shiny-faced.”
Men volunteered for the Army Air Force
for any number of reasons. Many, like my father, wished to avoid the
infantry, especially with America’s disillusionment with a
prolonged ground war following WW I. They were also motivated by
patriotism, peer pressure, and/or a sense of adventure. Many were drawn to the Air Force by a
youthful romantic ideal of flying. They had grown up in the Golden
Age of aviation with stories about the Wright Brothers, Charles
Lindberg and Billy Mitchell, although most of these young men had
never set foot in an airplane before the war. Don had been employed
at Lockheed Aviation in Burbank working on the P-38 Lightning, an
unusual and powerful twin-engine fighter. Like many male defense workers, Don thought he would
rather fly one of these machines than build them. And a small army
of Rosie the Riveters was already moving to take their place on the
assembly line.
My father had another reason motivating him. In 1940. during his Mormon mission to Denmark, the Germans attacked and occupied that country and he and the other missionaries were quickly evacuated, first to Norway and then to the United States. On the North Sea they were stopped and
inspected by a German submarine and buzzed several times by British
planes, but arrived in New York safely. My father was deeply resentful of the fate of peaceful Danish people and wanted a chance to strike back against their aggressors.
For those who wanted to fly, USAAF
training usually began at a classification center where they were
given a battery of tests for health, eyesight, motor coordination,
mental aptitude, and psychological ability. Over half of applicants
failed this process, but they could still volunteer for aerial
gunnery training.
Basic Army training was mainly
conducted by old career sergeants who treated the new air recruits as
just another bunch of privates that needed shaping up, “And so the
yelling and hollering began, and the nonstop four-letter words.”
Physical training included cross-country runs, weightlifting,
calisthenics and obstacle courses. The drilling was constant. They
were taught barracks duties, close order drill, how to march and then
march some more, how to shoot a gun, how to put on a gas mask, and
how to obey verbal commands. My father wrote home wondering why more
drill sergeants were not shot by their men.
But this was only the beginning of the
most mentally rigorous training yet devised by the American military.
Before a potential pilot could earn his wings and an officer’s
commission in the AAF he had to pass through several additional
programs including college courses, Pre-Flight training, and three
separate flight training programs—Primary, Basic, and Advanced
Pilot Training. Each of these flight schools lasted nine to ten
weeks.
After thirty days of basic Army
training the air cadets were shipped out to various colleges and
universities around the country for months of testing and training in
CTD, the College Training Detachment. Before the war the Air Force
had established a minimum of a two-year college education for its
pilots, co-pilots, navigators, and bombardiers. But by December 10,
1941 that requirement was dropped in favor of those cadets who could
pass a rigorous college education equivalency test. In January
1942, the marriage ban for flyers was also eliminated and the age
requirement lowered from 20 to 18 years.
In July 1943, my father was assigned to
Spearfish, South Dakota for his college training. He had no idea that this was
where his future unit, the 398th Bombardment Group, was
training and waiting for deployment overseas. The Aviation Cadet
Qualifying Exam covered such topics as graph, chart, and map reading,
math and physics, principles of mechanics and other technical
information, and college level courses in English and history.
Potential pilots were also tested for motor coordination, dexterity,
response to pressure and reaction to change. In an undated postcard
to his mother, he wrote, “I enjoyed your sweet letter and I was
very happy to learn that Dad is progressing satisfactorily. I feel
pretty happy today as I just learned that I passed all my
examinations. I’m pretty weak in math and physics but close to the
top in my other subjects.”
After CTD there was another stringent
physical exam in which vision was the critical component. Cadets
were tested on depth perception, distance and near vision, color
perception, and other vision related issues. Nearly twenty percent
failed these tests and were washed out, but they could still
volunteer for aerial gunnery training, radio operator training, or
flight engineer training. Those who passed CTD and vision tests were
asked to list their preference of pilot, bombardier, or navigator.
Although potential pilots had to score high to move on, the AAF often
selected navigators from the highest scorers.
Don’s father, E.S. Christensen,
passed away on August 21, 1943, at age 69 following prostate
surgery. Jocile remembers, “Don was within a short time of
finishing his training at Spearfish when his father died. They gave
him leave to come home and the Red Cross found a ride for him. It
was a time of mixed emotions for us. We were saddened at the passing
of his father, but so happy to have some time together. The Air Corps
gave him an extra week and told him not to go back to Spearfish but
to report to his new base at Santa Ana, California. When he was
there we saw each other often. Either I rode down with the other
wives or he was able to come home.” My father turned 26 on
September 3, and I had my first birthday on the 18th.
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