Naval Aviation Pilots (NAPs): Unsung Heroes of the Skies

By Mark Freeman
HRNM Ceremonies/Special Events Coordinator

Enlisted Naval Aviators (NAPs) have played a crucial yet often overlooked role in shaping the history of naval aviation. To learn more about the Naval Aviation Pilot, please see our previous blog. This article seeks to shed light on several of the most famous NAPs, spanning the period from 1911 to 1981. The journey begins with the humble origins of enlisted aviation training, exploring the challenges and triumphs that these men faced in their quest to take to the skies.

In the nascent days of naval aviation, the distinction of being NAP No. 1 fell upon Chief Quartermaster (Aviation) Harold H. “Kiddy” Karr. Karr was trained as a biplane pilot in France to support World War I aviation efforts. An illustrious member of the original 1919 class, Kiddy Karr's legacy set the stage for future generations of enlisted aviators. Karr is identified as NAP No. 1 because he was trained before the program was established.

Chief Machinist’s Mate (A) Floyd Bennett, NAP No. 9, soared to fame as a pilot for polar explorer Admiral Richard Byrd. In 1926, Bennett became the first enlisted pilot to fly over the North Pole. He received the Medal of Honor for his Arctic flight. Bennett continued flying experimental planes and died in 1928 from pneumonia following a crash in Canada. Famed pilot Charles Lindbergh was enroute to the hospital with a serum to save Chief Bennett but arrived after he had already died.

CMM Floyd Bennett (NHHC)

The post-World War I era saw remarkable feats, with Chief Machinist’s Mate (A) Eugene “Smokey” Rhoads (NAP No. 27) standing out. Shoveling coal on trains before joining the Navy, Rhoads became a transatlantic flight pioneer and, in 1919, he was a member of the crew that completed the first transatlantic flight flying the NC-4 Flying Boat.

NC-4 Flying Boat Crew, with CMM Rhoads on left (This Day in Aviation)

NC-4 Flying Boat (NHHC)

Chief Machinist’s Mate (A) Francis E. Ormsbee, Jr., NAP No. 25, the first NAP to receive the Medal of Honor, demonstrated extraordinary heroism in a 1918 rescue mission. Chief Ormsbee rescued a gunner from a downed aircraft off the coast of NAS Pensacola. He landed nearby and jumped in, holding the gunner’s head above water until assistance could arrive. Once assistance arrived, he continued to dive to try and save others aboard the aircraft, to no avail.

CMM Ormsbee (US Navy)

The golden era of NAPs unfolded during World War II, as they transitioned from utility roles to frontline combat. Notable figures like Chief Boatswain Patrick J. “Pappy” Byrne, with an astonishing 23,000 flight hours in 140 aircraft types in his 40-year career, exemplified the versatility of NAPs.

The heroic exploits of Chief Petty Officer Wilbur B. “Spider” Webb, who continued flying despite losing a leg during the Pearl Harbor attack, highlighted the indomitable spirit of these aviators. Flying with Fighting Squadron 2 (VF-2) attached to USS Hornet (CV 12), Webb earned the Navy Cross for his heroics defending the Marianas Islands, during the Battle of the Philippine Sea, becoming a Navy ace by shooting down seven enemy aircraft in aerial combat.

Chief Webb (The Hall of Valor Project)

During the Korean War, the Navy needed additional NAPs. NAPs such as Aviation Machinist Mate First Class (AD1) William Longley flew helicopter missions. These missions were mainly in support as combat rescue and medical evacuation. Longley flew 27 different types of aircraft with over 11,000 hours as a pilot. He once recorded flying over 600,000 miles in 414 days without incident, which was a record at the time.

AD1 Longley aboard USS St. Paul (Naval Helicopter Association Historical Society)

When the Vietnam War concluded, the era of Naval Aviation Pilots drew to a close. In 1973, four of the last five enlisted pilots, Master Gunnery Sergeants Robert Lurie, Leslie T. Ericson, Joseph A. Conroy, and Patrick J. O'Neill, retired after 30 years of service. Their retirement marked the end of an era that spanned two World Wars, Korea, and Vietnam. In 1981, Master Chief Air Controlman (NAP) Robert K. Jones retired. His retirement marked the end of an era, as he was the final NAP to retire.

From the icy expanses of the North Pole to the intense battles in the Pacific, NAPs exemplified dedication and heroism. In their 65 years of distinguished service, these 5,000 unsung heroes left an enduring legacy. Their story is not just one of flying machines but a testament to the indelible spirit of those who served their country with unwavering commitment and valor.

A Short History of Naval Aviation Pilots (Enlisted)

By Mark Freeman
HRNM Ceremonies/Special Events Coordinator

Naval Aviation Pilot insignia (NHHC)

Enlisted naval aviators have played a crucial role in the history of military aviation. Enlisted as non-commissioned officers, these aviators have undergone rigorous training, operated diverse aircraft, and actively participated in major battles.

The roots of enlisted pilots can be traced back to 1916. The first class of enlisted pilots were trained in Pensacola, Florida. Once these men received designation as Navy Air Pilots (Enlisted), many were transferred to the Navy Reserve Flying Corps, awaiting commission and held in an Active status as enlisted pilots until their commissioning. Enlisted men identified as interested in aviation increased during World War I, leading to the establishment of Naval Air Stations (NAS) for pilot training. As the demands of aerial combat escalated, the need for skilled pilots grew exponentially. The United States Navy established the Enlisted Pilot Corps to address this shortage in 1917. Enlisted pilots demonstrated their dedication and competence, proving that naval aviation was not the sole domain of commissioned officers. The first ten enlisted pilots received their wings at NAS Pensacola, Florida (all received a commission). This initial cadre of enlisted pilots primarily operated biplanes like the Curtiss N-9 and the Vought VE-7.

Curtiss N-9 (left) and Vought VE-7 (NHHC)

After World War I ended and many volunteers were demobilized, naval aviation again had issues maintaining qualified aviation personnel. Throughout 1919, Navy leaders discussed creating and maintaining a program specifically for enlisted aviators. All of the enlisted aviators previously qualified and designated between 1916 and 1919 had either been commissioned in the Naval Reserve Air Corps or had rescinded their commissions and were back in the fleet as enlisted personnel.

The first use of the term "Naval Aviation Pilots" (NAP) came from an October 1919 Bureau of Navigation letter, which stated, “In the future, it will be the policy of the Bureau to select a certain number of warrant officers and enlisted men for flight training and duty as pilots of large heavier-than-air craft and directional pilots of dirigibles.” Thus, without approval from Congress, the Navy began the NAP program. Congressional approval did not occur until the mid-1920s.

With the outbreak of World War II, naval aviation underwent a paradigm shift. Ninety-five percent of NAPs received temporary commissions. Since NAPs were trained in so many different types of aircraft, they could backfill undermanned air wings. NAPs found themselves at the forefront of combat operations in the Pacific theater. They were involved in major battles, such as the Battle of Midway in June 1942. Operating aircraft like the Douglas TBD Devastator, NAPs contributed significantly to the victory. Aviation Pilot First Class (AP1) Robert Miles was a member of Torpedo Squadron Eight (VT-8), which flew from USS Hornet (CV 8) during the battle. With no fighter cover protecting them, they attacked despite superior numbers and enemy weaponry. AP1 Miles was shot down and lost at sea. He was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross. VT-8 had only one survivor from the battle.

VT-8 aboard USS Hornet (CV 8), circa May 1942. Miles is in the front row, far right. (NHHC)

At the end of World War II, the NAP flyers either resigned their commissions and entered the “regular” Navy or left the service. In 1947 the Navy terminated the NAP program with the last of the trained enlisted pilots finishing their training that same year. NAPs would continue to fly through the Korean and Vietnam Wars, with four of the last five retiring on the same day in 1973.

The Enlisted Naval Aviation Pilot program faced its fair share of challenges, particularly during periods of conflict. World War II, in particular, witnessed a surge in demand for naval aviators, leading to an expansion of the program. Enlisted personnel, many of whom had never flown an aircraft before, were thrust into the rigorous training regimen that awaited aspiring naval aviators. The program's challenges were multifaceted. From mastering complex aircraft to navigating the intricacies of naval aviation, NAPs had to overcome skepticism and prove their worth in an environment traditionally dominated by commissioned officers. In an interview, NAP Francis “Red” O’Laughlin said, “Despite all of our accomplishments, officers still didn’t think we could do it.” The push for rapid expansion during wartime added an extra layer of pressure, with an emphasis on efficiency and effectiveness in training.

Despite the challenges, the Enlisted Naval Aviation Pilot program left an indelible mark on naval aviation history. The legacy of the NAPs is one of trailblazing courage and tenacity exemplifying the Navy's commitment to finding and nurturing talent irrespective of rank.

Naval Aviation Pilots (Enlisted) have a storied history, dating back to the early 20th century. From the biplanes of World War I to the cutting-edge jets of the 21st century, NAPs adapted to the changing face of naval aviation. Their involvement in major conflicts and battles consistently demonstrated their skill, versatility, and dedication to the mission at hand. When the Navy terminated the program in 1947, roughly 5,000 enlisted pilots had earned the right to be considered a Silver Eagle (Enlisted Naval Aviation Pilot). In 1981, the final NAP retired, ending a storied era in naval aviation.

ACCM (NAP) Robert K. Jones, the final NAP to retire. (Jetwhine.com)

Navy Fliers in the Berlin Airlift

By Zac Cunningham
School Programs Educator

In the late 1940s, Germany was the front line in the new global Cold War between the Soviet Union and the United States. The U.S., Great Britain, and France occupied the country’s west while the Soviet Union occupied its east. One hundred miles inside the Soviet-controlled east, the city of Berlin was similarly split. Divided Germany and Berlin became battlegrounds where military power was used first to deny and then to provide civilians the necessities of life.

Aerial view of World War II destruction in Berlin around the Brandenburg Gate (Wikipedia)

In 1948, the Western Powers took steps to transform their occupation zones into a new German state. The Soviets responded by blocking roads, railways, and canals into Berlin’s western zones, cutting off electricity, food, and coal supplies to the 2.5 million residents in that half of the city.[1]

American, British, and French occupation authorities launched an airlift of supplies into West Berlin codenamed “Operation Vittles.” Initially, the Allies had to airlift 3,500 tons of supplies per day. With the need for coal in winter, that increased to 4,500 tons daily. Over the next several weeks, the U.S. Air Force poured hundreds of C-54 Skymaster and C-47 Dakota transport aircraft into Europe for the airlift.[2]

U.S. Naval Aviation became involved during a late summer and autumn push to stockpile winter supplies in Berlin. Naval Air Transport Squadrons Six (VR-6) based in Guam and Eight (VR-8) based in Hawaii received orders to join the airlift at the end of October. VR-8 layover crews and personnel were collected from Johnston Atoll, Kwajalein, and Guam. VR-6 fliers winged their way back across the Pacific from Shanghai, Tokyo, and Manila.[3]

Just two days after receiving orders, both squadrons converged on California’s Moffett Field for inspections, repairs, and winterization. After radars were installed at Florida’s Naval Air Station Jacksonville, the 24 Douglas R5D Skymasters of VR-6 and VR-8 departed for Rhein-Main Air Base near Frankfurt, Germany.[4]

At Rhein-Main, VR-6 located its home on the base’s outskirts in a Quonset hut for operations, engineering, and administration and another for supply while “perforated steel plating hard stands became the squadron’s parking ramps.” Comforts were minimal. VR-8 ground personnel reported facing unreliable electricity, no fresh water, an outhouse for a head, and living quarters 10 miles away by bus.[5]

Left: Rhein-Main Air Base (US Army); Right: Ground crew warm their hands between engine checks (NHHC)

Nevertheless, the squadrons immediately began their mission “to establish and maintain the highest possible efficiency of personnel and equipment to allow a maximum lift of supplies to the blockaded city of Berlin.” Late on November 9, the same day he and his plane arrived in Germany, Lieutenant Richard Gerszeuski flew VR-8’s first mission from Frankfurt, over the Soviet-occupied east, to West Berlin’s Tempelhof Airport. Lieutenant Joseph L. Norris made VR-6’s first flight on November 12. This was 75 years ago this month.[6]

Navy fliers in the Berlin Airlift (NHHC)

The ad hoc nature of the airlift’s early days was demonstrated on December 19 when loading crews mistakenly put an extra 5,730 pounds of flour—nearly three tons more than normal—on a VR-6 plane. Through strained, the aircraft managed to fly all 26,730 pounds to Berlin. Such a mistake was understandable since “loads of flour, coal, and other supplies were started aboard [planes] at Rhein/Main before the engines were cut.” As the airlift settled into a routine, however, loading and unloading improved. On March 10, a Tempelhof ground crew, which was often made up of civilian Berliners and displaced persons, unloaded a VR-6 aircraft in a record six minutes. While on the ground in Berlin, a mobile snack bar kept flight crews near their planes ready to depart as fast as they were emptied.[7]

Airman Apprentice Robert H. Davidson is shown checking the lashings on the load of flour in his R5D and then directing the unloading of the flour at Berlin's Tempelhof Airport (NHHC)

The airlift’s dangers quickly became apparent to the Navy’s fliers. That winter’s weather was infamously poor, requiring constant use of instrument-only flying and ground-controlled approaches. The danger was particularly acute when landing at Tempelhof, where planes approached one runway between two rows of six-story apartment buildings. Visibility was so poor when the Navy’s squadrons started flying that it was three weeks before crews saw the apartment blocks they were flying between. Aviation Machinist Mate 3rd Class Louis Marconi exclaimed, “My God! I just saw someone’s house go by!”[8]

The fog, rain, and snow caused casualties. On November 15, VR-6 Lieutenant Commander Stephen Lukacik’s plane overran Tempelhof’s runway, crashed, and caught fire. The flames seriously burned Air Force Captain Armand I. Grenadier, a check pilot. Chief Aviation Machinist Mate Sidney D. Pointer, also seriously burned, saved Grenadier’s life. Pointer received a letter of commendation from General Lucius D. Clay, commander of U.S. forces in Europe. Lukacik received similar commendation. Co-pilot Lieutenant William O. Kuencer was also burned and broke his hand.[9]

A month later, just after midnight on December 11, VR-6 suffered a death. Aviation Machinist Mate 3rd Class Harry R. Crite was killed on the return flight from Berlin when the plane “struck terrain extending above 1,000 feet” and slid 1,100 feet through an apple orchard. Trees crumpled the nose, severed parts of the wings and horizontal stabilizers, and broke the plane in two. Pilots Lieutenant Joseph L. Norris and Ensign George H. Blackwood plus Air Force 1st Lieutenant Kenneth Sanger were seriously injured. Army hostess Dianna D. Day and Air Force 1st Lieutenant Frank J. Heffernan were uninjured.[10]

The Navy’s airlift crews tried to make themselves at home in West Germany. Far from the coast, these flying Sailors found they were novelties to many Germans. In one instance, VR-8’s Lieutenant Commander Eugene L. Lowrance was sightseeing in Frankfurt when he overheard two West Germans, unfamiliar with his aviation greens, worry that he was a “Russkie.” To ease their minds, he showed them his U.S. Navy id card.[11]

On December 22, VR-6 and VR-8 personnel threw a Christmas party for children at an orphanage near Frankfurt. They brought the kids “a truckload of clothing, food, candy, and toys” and enjoyed “a Christmas play presented by the 70 children.” Another group “assembled food which they had purchased and any candy and nuts they could scrounge from the [Bachelor Officers’ Quarters] into nine Christmas packages” delivered to “destitute German families.”[12]

The same day as the holiday party, Lieutenant Margaret Carver became VR-8’s personnel officer. Among the first women to join the regular Navy after the Women’s Armed Services Integration Act passed six months earlier, Carver was the first female Navy officer to serve in Europe. VR-8 also had the airlift’s only all-enlisted plane crew, Chief Aviation Pilot Wesley T. Christiensen, Aviation Pilot First Class Joseph A. Popp, and Chief Aviation Machinist Mate Ira Fox.[13]

Lieutenant Margaret E. Carver became VR-8's personnel officer on December 22, 1948, becoming the first women Navy officer stationed in Europe (NHHC)

The Navy’s squadrons quickly became the best in the airlift. During 24 hours on December 16, VR-8 set a single day sortie record when it made 51 flights in a day.[14] “By the end of December [1948],” Naval Aviation News summarized:

VR-8 under Cdr. James O. Vosseller, was leading all squadrons in the Airlift in every measurable phase of air transport operation. It won first honors in aircraft utilization, total cargo carried, payload efficiency and tons per plane. For several weeks, VR-6, commanded by Cdr. Harry P. Badger, was engaged in a spirited battle for second honors with the two top Air Force units. By the end of February [1949,] it forged to the front, equalling [sic] and frequently exceeding VR-8 in operational accomplishments. Performance records unparalleled in the history of air transport were established by the Navy planes and crews in April when the two squadrons flew 8,234 hours in delivering 23,550 tons of food and coal.[15]

VR-6 matched VR-8’s 24 hour record on April 12, 1949, and then broke it with 60 flights on April 18. Meanwhile, VR-8 continued to lead the airlift force in efficiency every month from December to May.[16]

Two R5Ds of VR-8 sandwich an Air Force C-54 as they await their turn for takeoff from Rhein-Main Air Base in January 1949 (USNI)

On May 12, 1949, the Soviet authorities in East Germany lifted their blockade. The airlift continued during the summer months to stockpile a surplus in case the Soviets reinstituted the cordon. July 1949 marked the final month of VR-6 and VR-8’s participation with both squadrons ending operations on the 31st. VR-6 took up its new home base at Westover Air Force Base in Massachusetts while VR-8 returned to Hickam Air Force Base in Hawaii.[17]

The Cold War was the 20th century’s third world war, a total war in which the main belligerents pursued whole of society mobilizations to compete globally, not in direct combat, but in political, diplomatic, military, economic, and cultural realms. Divided Germany and Berlin became battlegrounds in this global war where military power was used first to deny and then to provide civilians the necessities of life. Air Transport Squadrons Six and Eight of the United States Navy were called from halfway around the world to serve in this struggle. They excelled in that service as did the Berlin Airlift itself, achieving not a military victory but a political, diplomatic, and economic victory that bolstered the U.S. anti-Soviet alliance and helped give birth to a free and democratic West Germany.



Notes:
[1] “The Berlin Airlift, 1948-1949,” Milestones in the History of U.S. Foreign Relations, Office of the Historian, U.S. Department of State, https://history.state.gov/milestones/1945-1952/berlin-airlift [accessed June 27, 2023].
[2] Milestones; Jeffery G. Barlow, “The U.S. Navy’s Participation in the Berlin Airlift,” Naval History and Heritage Command, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/us-navys-participation-in-the-berlin-airlift.html [accessed June 27, 2023].
[3] Barlow; Lieutenant Maurice B. Jackson, “History of Air Transport Squadron Six for period 30 October 1948 to 31, January 1949,” U.S. Department of the Navy, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/squadron-history-reports/vr-6/vr-6-historical-report-30-oct-1948-31-jan-1949.html [accessed June 27, 2023], 4; “Navy Wings Over Berlin,” Naval Aviation News, March 1949, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/articles-on-the-berlin-airlift/articles-published-in-naval-aviation-news/navy-wings-over-berlin.html [accessed October 31, 2023], 2.
[4] Barlow; Jackson, 31 January 1949, 5; “Navy Wings Over Berlin,” 2-3.
[5] Jackson, 31 January 1949, 5; “Berlin Airlift Rugged,” Naval Aviation News, June 1949, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/articles-on-the-berlin-airlift/articles-published-in-naval-aviation-news/berlin-airlift-rugged.html [accessed November 2, 2023].
[6] Jackson, 31 January 1949, 1, 3; “Navy Wings Over Berlin,” 3.
[7] Jackson, 31 January 1949, 2,6; Lieutenant Maurice B. Jackson, “History of the Military Air Transport Squadron Six from 1 March 1949 to 31 March 1949,” U.S. Department of the Navy, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/squadron-history-reports/vr-6/vr-6-historical-report-1-mar-31-mar-1949.html [accessed November 3, 2023], 3; “Navy Wings Over Berlin,” 3.
[8] “Navy Wings Over Berlin,” 3; “Berlin Airlift Rugged.”
[9] Jackson, 31 January 1949, 6, 8.
[10] Jackson, 31 January 1949, 4, 6.
[11] “Navy Wings Over Berlin,” 3.
[12] Jackson, 31 January 1949, 7; “Navy Wings Over Berlin,” 4.
[13] “Navy Wings Over Berlin,” 4; James L. Leuci, Navy Women in Ships: A Deployment to Equality, 1942-1982, Hampton Roads Naval Museum, https://www.history.navy.mil/content/dam/museums/hrnm/Education/Women%20in%20Ships%201978%2020160207.pdf [accessed October 31, 2023], 5; Captain Daniel W. Christensen, “Navy Air in the Berlin Airlift,” Naval Aviation News, January-February 1996, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/articles-on-the-berlin-airlift/articles-published-in-naval-aviation-news/navy-air-in-the-berlin-airlift.html [accessed November 8, 2023], 36.
[14] “Navy Squadrons Lead Pack,” Naval Aviation News, May 1949, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/articles-on-the-berlin-airlift/articles-published-in-naval-aviation-news/navy-squadrons-lead-pack.html [accessed November 2, 2023].
[15] “Navy Wins Airlift Honors,” Naval Aviation News, November 1949, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/articles-on-the-berlin-airlift/articles-published-in-naval-aviation-news/navy-wins-airlift-honors.html [accessed November 3, 2023].
[16] “Navy Squadrons Lead Pack;” “2 Navy Air Transport Squadrons Flying Record Loads to Berlin Airlift,” All Hands, August 1949, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/articles-on-the-berlin-airlift/articles-published-in-all-hands/2-navy-air-transport-squadrons-fly-record-loads-into-berlin-via-airlift.html [accessed November 2, 2023].
[17] Lieutenant Maurice B. Jackson, “History of Military Air Transport Squadron Six for period 1 May 1949 to 31 May 1949,” U.S. Department of the Navy, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/squadron-history-reports/vr-6/vr-6-historical-report-1-may-31-may-1949.html [accessed October 31, 2023], 4; “Historical Report for period 1 July 1949 to 31 December 1949,” U.S. Department of the Navy, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/squadron-history-reports/vr-6/vr-6-semi-annual-report-1-jul-31-dec-1949.html [accessed November 3, 2023], 2; “History of Air Transport Squadron Eight, 1 July 1949 through 31 December 1949,” U.S. Department of the Navy, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/squadron-history-reports/vr-8/vr-8-air-transport-squadron-8.html [accessed November 8, 2023], 3; “Airlift Over, MATS Resumes World-Wide Schedules,” All Hands, December 1949, https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/naval-aviation-history/involvement-by-conflict/cold-war/naval-aviation-s-involvement-in-the-berlin-airlift/articles-on-the-berlin-airlift/articles-published-in-all-hands/airlift-over-mats-resumes-world-wide-schedules.html [accessed November 3, 2023].

L-8 to the Golden Gate: A Naval Aviation Mystery

By Nick Wieman
HRNM Educator

The United States’ entry into the Second World War exposed the unprepared US Navy to the predations of both German and Japanese submarine warfare. Particularly in the early months of 1942 before the introduction of the convoy system, the Kriegsmarine picked off unprotected merchant ships on the Atlantic coast, while in the Pacific, Japanese submarines focused on naval vessels and light coastal bombardment. The US Navy’s solution to the problem of unrestricted submarine warfare was to fall back on technology once thought to be the future of transportation that had now become virtually obsolete.

Before World War II, the United States Navy was the only military to continue development of non-rigid airships for coastal convoy escort and anti-submarine warfare (ASW) purposes. Rigid airships—commonly called Zeppelins after their inventor, Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin—have the balloon stretched over a solid internal frame. Once employed in a wide variety of roles, they had been rendered virtually obsolete by heavier-than-air craft (i.e., airplanes). High profile disasters like the loss of the Navy’s USS Akron (1933) and USS Macon (1935), and most famously the destruction of the German-made Hindenburg had exposed the limits of rigid airships for military purposes. Non-rigid airships (blimps), in which the shape of the balloon was maintained only by the internal pressure generated by the lifting gases, were cheaper to build/maintain and easier to transport between launch sites. During the war, the US Navy’s inventory of airships grew from 10 to almost 160, finding great success in the niche of convoy escort and ASW operations.

K-class airship escorting a merchant ship (USNI)

L-8 was one of five blimps requisitioned from the Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company, inducted into an umbrella “L-class,” as opposed to being purpose-built for the Navy. The L-class were training ships, lacking the range of the K-class ships accompanying convoys, refitted for light ASW duty. Before its disappearance, L-8 had already made its own small mark on naval history by delivering material to USS Hornet for modifying the B-25B Mitchell bombers that participated in the April 18, 1942, Doolittle Raid. L-8 was stationed with Airship Patrol Squadron 32 at Moffet Field outside San Francisco, California.

In the clear early morning of August 16, 1942, L-8 departed from Treasure Island on a routine antisubmarine patrol, meant to fly about 30 miles west to the Farallon Islands, bear north-northwest to Point Reyes, and then return to Moffet Field. L-8 was crewed by pilot Lieutenant Ernest DeWitt Cody and copilot Ensign Charles E. Adams, who was on his first flight as a commissioned officer. At 7:38 A.M., roughly an hour and a half into their patrol, LT Cody reported an oil slick four miles off the Farallon Islands, a possible sign of a submarine surfacing. At 7:50, Cody radioed that they would be taking the airship down to investigate; this would be the last confirmed contact made with the crew of L-8. On seeing the distant airship descend and circle the oil slick, fishing vessels and a pair of patrol boats cleared the area in case the airship dropped one of its depth charges. Rather than drop a depth charge, the airship dropped ballast and ascended, moving eastward as it did so.

L-8's aircrew, LT Ernest DeWitt Cody (left) and Ensign Charles E. Adams (dailytelegraph.com)

L-8 would reappear around 11:15 over Ocean Beach, about 7 miles south of the Golden Gate Bridge near an Army Coast Artillery Patrol Station, drifting at an unusually low altitude before slowly touching down and skidding along the sand. Two fishermen tried in vain to hold it down by its dangling tie lines, but they were unable to get it weighted down before it collided with the sloping cliffs, dislodging a depth charge (which did not detonate) and relieving enough weight to get it airborne once more. The fishermen shouted at the gondola’s crew to try to get their attention but heard no response and didn’t see anyone in the gondola.

While L-8 had dropped significant ballast, it had also begun to leak helium due to a valve that had been jostled open in the struggle to get it grounded. It would steadily drop altitude. As it drifted south, passing over downtown San Francisco and crossing city limits into nearby Daly City, the weight of the gondola began to pull the balloon down, and it came to look like a sagging “v” shape as it descended. After scraping against roofs and telephone wires, L-8 gently “crashed” at 419 Bellevue Avenue, Daly City.

L-8 drifting over downtown San Francisco. Note the weight of the gondola dragging down the deflating balloon. (Wikipedia)

For those who first reached the airship, investigation of the gondola yielded a puzzling sight. There was no sign of either Lt. Cody or Ensign Adams in the gondola, and no damage beyond what was sustained in the landing. The gondola’s doors were latched open, and the engines had remained on until depleted of fuel. Whatever happened to the crew, it had to have happened when they reduced their speed to get a closer look at the supposed oil spill, suddenly enough that neither pilot had time to switch off the engines. The only thing missing from the gondola was a pair of life vests, but even this was not unusual, as the crew would have been required to wear their life vests over open ocean. When L-8 was returned to Treasure Island, Navy inspectors discovered that the gondola had never touched the water. It was as if the pilots had simply vanished into thin air.

L-8 crashed on Bellevue Avenue. Note the open hatch. (USNI)

The Navy’s investigation into the crew’s disappearance was not helped by contradictory eyewitness testimony. The Army station on Ocean Beach initially reported seeing the pilots bailing out over Ocean Beach, mistaking the two fishermen for the crew. A golfer at the Olympic Club golf course reported seeing a single parachute descending from the airship before it had touched down on Ocean Beach, although closer inspection showed the parachutes remained in the gondola. Finally, a horseback rider on the beach reported seeing three individuals in the gondola as it descended, a surprising claim considering that only Cody and Adams were aboard.

After two days of fruitless searching for any trace of the pilots, the Navy called off the search and declared them MIA; they would be declared dead in 1943. Investigation into the disappearance could only conclude that there was no evidence of foul play and no reason to suspect any wrongdoing on the part of the pilots. The explanation proffered by the Navy was that while dropping flares out of the hatch to mark the oil slick, one of the pilots may have slipped and been hanging onto the edge of the gondola. When the other pilot attempted to haul him up, they both fell into the sea. The sudden lightening of the gondola would have caused the blimp to ascend rapidly. One other remote possibility was that the crew was taken prisoner aboard the hypothetical Japanese submarine and murdered in custody. Other possibilities offered were more speculative or outlandish: a murder attempt gone awry, a murder-suicide, defection to Japan, and even aliens!

Former L-8 gondola in service with Goodyear as America (airships.net)

The remainder of L-8’s service would be otherwise uneventful. After repairs to the gondola and attachment to a new balloon, L-8 returned to service in early September 1942 and would continue as a coastal antisubmarine patrol craft for the remainder of the war. It was sold back to Goodyear, repainted into Goodyear livery, and went into “service” as America, part of Goodyear’s iconic airship fleet flying over sporting events nationwide, flying between 1968 and 1982. Finally, the gondola was repainted into its wartime L-8 livery and donated to the National Naval Aviation Museum in Pensacola, Florida.

L-8 gondola on display at the National Naval Aviation Museum in Pensacola, FL (NHHC)

Sources:
Irwin Ross. “The Mystery of the L-8” U.S. Naval Institute. 1 March 1970
Ruffin, Steven A. Flights of No Return: Aviation History’s Most Infamous One-Way Tickets to Immortality. Voyageur Press. 2015.
Vaeth, J. Gordon. Blimps & U-Boats. Annapolis, Maryland: U.S. Naval Institute Press. 1992

USS Langley (CV 1): The Finale (Part 3)

Sailors watch from USS Whipple as Langley is scuttled. (Naval History and Heritage Command)

By Thomas Grubbs

Contributing Writer

 Editor's Note: This is part 3 of the USS Langley series. Click the links to read Part 1 and part 2.

On February 26, 1937, USS Langley, now designated as AG 3, reentered active duty as a member of the Aircraft Scouting Force. It operated out of various West Coast ports and Pearl Harbor before making a brief detour to the Atlantic between February and July 1939. It was then deployed to the Asiatic Fleet some ten weeks later. War would find Langley at Cavite, Philippines.

After the Pearl Harbor attack, Langley fled south, first to Balikpapan in what is now Indonesia and eventually to Darwin, Northern Australia, by early January 1942 where it joined ADBACOM (Australian Dutch British American Command). It would spend the next month assisting the Royal Australian Air Force in anti-submarine patrols off Darwin. On February 22, 1942, Langley would leave on its date with destiny.

Curtiss P-40Es in flight (Wikipedia)

The seaplane tender embarked 32 P-40 Warhawk fighters of the 13^th Pursuit Squadron (Provisional) in Fremantle, Australia, as part of Convoy MS5 bound for Columbo in what is now Sri Lanka. Alongside three further transports and the cargo ship Sea Witch and escorted by the light cruiser USS Phoenix, the convoy was to deliver its war materiel to British forces in India. However, ABDACOM ordered both Langley and Sea Witch to deliver their combined cargo of 59 P-40s to Tjilatjap on the island of Java in a desperate attempt to stem the Japanese tide. Langley would not succeed.

On the morning of February 27, 1942, the tiny convoy, now escorted by destroyers Edsall and Whipple, was spotted by a Japanese reconnaissance plane. In response, 16 G4M Betty bombers attacked from Denpasar airfield, Bali. With the convoy lacking air cover, the Japanese commander, LT Jiro Adachi, ordered a rather leisurely attack on the American ships with Langley drawing the lion’s share of the attention. Apparently enraged at this lack of respect, the tender fought back with a fury worthy of a far larger warship. Coupled with exceptional ship handling, Langley was able to evade the first two attack runs. But the third pass would prove fatal, with five hits and three near misses from 550-lb and 130-lb bombs killing 16 sailors, starting fires, crippling the ship, and inducing a 10-degree list to port. The crippled vessel was abandoned at 1:32 P.M. and scuttled by the escorting destroyers to prevent its capture. 

A torpedo from the destroyer USS Whipple (DD 217) strikes home as the seaplane tender USS Langley is scuttled after being disabled by Japanese bombers on February 27, 1942. (Naval History and Heritage Command)

Of the 485 men rescued, most would be lost when the ship carrying them, oiler USS Pecos, was sunk by the Japanese on March 1 south of Java. Thirty-one more would be lost when the destroyer Edsall was sunk in an epic showdown with two Japanese battleships Kirishima and Hiei that same day, while they were responding the oiler’s distress calls. Thus ended the story of the US Navy’s first aircraft carrier. The valiant sacrifices of ABDACOM bought the time necessary for the United States to prepare a counterpunch against the Japanese, but that is a story for another time.

A Tragedy on Granby: Part 2

(George Tucker/Virginian Pilot/TCA)

By Captain Alexander G. Monroe (Ret.)

HRNM Docent and Contributing Writer

This is the second part covering the December 9, 1958 crash (Part 1 available here) of a Navy AJ-2 tanker airplane into a Norfolk neighborhood. 

(Virginian Pilot/TCA)

The task before the investigators at Naval Air Force Atlantic Fleet, at the Naval Aviation Safety Center, and in the Squadron was to determine what happened and why. The initial thrust of the investigation was reported in the Virginian Pilot on December 11. An unsigned piece noted that “two smashed engines probably hold the grim key to Tuesday’s tragedy in the 8900 block of Granby Street.” An anonymous investigator opined that, “we are not overlooking the possibility that fuel ready for transfer had been commingled with the Savage’s fuel supply.”[i] The aircraft was removed from the crash site and taken to the Overhaul and Repair Department of the Naval Air Station where investigation began. It was colored by the statement of the investigator noted above. Though a reconstruction layout was not possible because of the extensive destruction of the airplane, the wreckage was sifted and components worthy of study were removed and photographed.[ii] Fuel samples from the aircraft were removed for comparison with those taken prior to take off. The upshot of the examinations was that no JP-4 contamination was found in the plane's fuel tanks and there was no evidence of contamination in the pistons, cylinders or carburetor.[iii]

Headline from December 11, 1958 (Virginian Pilot/TCA)

(Virginian Pilot/TCA)

The cause of the engine malfunction and resulting crash remains speculative, and opinions of the entities conducting the investigations and the endorsers have never been made public. Provisions of federal law, calculated to encourage frank discussion of causes and protect the privacy of those whose performance is under scrutiny--and their families--prohibit such disclosure. It is thought that the safety of Naval Aviation could be improved by non-disclosure.[iv] The squadron commanding officer wrote a final endorsement to the accident report on February 13, 1959. Heavy Attack Squadron 15 was disestablished two days later.[v] His endorsement and those of others, to include Commander Naval Air Force Atlantic Fleet, were heavily redacted. There have been at least five other major air crashes since December 9, 1958, at or in the immediate vicinity of Naval Air Station Norfolk (now known as Chambers Field on Naval Station Norfolk). The accidents have resulted in nine fatalities and involved Patrol, Transport, and Electronic Warfare aircraft. The first and last involved crashes into Willoughby Bay and Ocean View Beach, and one involved an approach and “hard landing”[vi] of a P2V Neptune aircraft in rain with visibility reduced to half a mile.

Though it has taken time to issue regulations that would reduce the likelihood of aircraft accidents in a high density area such as Hampton Roads, initial steps have been taken with the publication of Air Installation Compatible Use Zones studies with respect to Naval Station Norfolk’s air facility Chambers Field. The studies set forth regulations applicable to various governmental entities in the vicinity of Chambers Field. They also establish zones in which construction and occupancy are constrained by existence of the airfield. It assigns various functions and responsibilities to certain entities. For example, in certain areas, such as the approach end of runway 10/270, development is prohibited. On the departure end, the intensity of use of existing structures in the civilian community may not be increased. Such regulation would be within the authority of the Building Commissioner of the City of Norfolk. The Plans of Development would be reviewed by Navy staff to determine if they were in conflict with aviation operations. The resulting apparatus has evolved over a number of years, though its operations have not been without some turbulence as Norfolk has grown.[v]

The 1958 crash was the first in Norfolk in which civilians died (Virginian Pilot/TCA) 

At the time of the December 9, 1958 crash, it was opined that diverting the aircraft to the Naval Air Station at Oceana in what was then relatively pristine farmland might have been a preferable course of action, rather than attempting to reach the home station. However, the area around the station has been built up over the years, and aircraft operations now present a hazard to nearby residents. Although most citizens in South Hampton Roads accept the risk of accidents, they do occur occasionally with devastating results. Since 1967, over 25 air crashes have occurred on the station or in the vicinity of Oceana.[viii]

An F-4 from VF-41 flies over NAS Oceana in 1971. The area was even more rural in 1958. (Wikimedia Commons)

As happens in the Navy, those whose lives were touched by the events of December 9, 1958, moved on, and many are now deceased. A major thoroughfare overlooking Hampton Roads on Naval Station Norfolk is named for Admiral Hughes, who died on December 23, 1960, while on active duty. The CO of VAH-15, Commander Shepard (later Rear Admiral), went on to the staff of Commander Naval Air Force Atlantic Fleet, as Air Operations Officer in USS Essex (CV 9), as Naval Aide to President John F. Kennedy and Commanding Officer of USS Aucilla (AO 56)[ix] and USS Princeton (LPH 5). The squadrons configured for refueling, VAH-15 and 16, were disestablished about 60 days after the terrible crash. In fact, by the summer of 1959 all VAH squadrons had been re-designated RVAH (reconnaissance) Squadrons. What is admirable and lasting is that various Navy and civilian organizations have taken action to lessen the risks and problems that emerge when, as Admiral Hughes aptly expressed it, “we have aircraft continually flying over our heads,” though there may, as a practical matter, be only so many preventative steps that may be taken.

 Endnotes

[i] “Wreckage studied for clues to crash,” Norfolk Virginian Pilot, December 12, 1958, p.1.

[ii] AAR 1-58,  p.96.

[iii] Ibid.,pp.70-73; See also CO NAS NORVA(Code 98E/310/869 F11 Ltr of 24 December 1958.

[iv] United States Code, Section 552(b)(5) and United States Code Section 552(b)(6)

[v] The West Coast Heavy Attack Squadron, VAH-16, was disestablished fifteen days earlier. 

[vi] Bureau of Aircraft Accidents (B3A) entry in the case of Norfolk Chambers Field NAS; “Neptune Crash Hurts 6,”  Norfolk Virginian Pilot, Al Edmonds, July 22, 1964.

[vii] For some recent friction see Official Warns about Threat to Naval Station’s Airfield,” Eric Hartley, Norfolk Virginian Pilot, March 17, 2016, p.1.;“Norfolk business owner says she’s broke, stuck in limbo after debate over Navy’s flight path,” Norfolk Virginian Pilot, Eric Hartley, p.A1. September 8, 2016; “Seven months later, banquet hall back on track to open in Navy Crash zone,” Norfolk Virginian Pilot, Eric Hartley, p.A1. September 10, 2016.

[viii] “Life in the flight path, noisy, unnerving,” The Norfolk, Virginian Pilot, Alec Klein, Sherrill Evans and Angelita Plummer, June 20, 1992. p. A9; “Mayhem from above, amazingly no deaths reported in Navy Jet crash; dozens displaced after Hornet’s  crash destroyed Beach apartments,” Mike Hixenburg and Kate Wiltrout, Norfolk, Virginian Pilot, p.A.1., April 7, 2012; “Oceana has had 25 plus crashes over 4 decades,”  Norfolk, Virginian Pilot, Bill Sizemore, April 7, 2012.

[ix] Captain Alexander G. Monroe, USN (Ret.), author of this blog, served as an Ensign as Gunnery Officer on board Aucilla during the period of Captain Shepard’s deep draft command tour.

USS Langley (CV 1): Firsts and an Evolving Mission (Part 2)

 

USS Langley (CV 1) seen in 1924. Note the crowded and narrow flight deck. (National Naval Aviation Museum)

By Thomas Grubbs

Contributing Writer

Ever since the days of the Spanish Armada, warships had been designed to do one thing: pound one another into wreckage with a battery of the largest caliber weapons that could be accommodated aboard. There had, simply put, never been a ship quite like an aircraft carrier in the world’s navies. No one knew what, if any, role such a new vessel could play in the fleet. Was it a scout? A spotter? An offensive weapon in its own right? It would fall to the crew of the new Langley, sporting hull number CV 1, to literally write the book on aircraft carrier operations for the United States Navy.

Vought VE7s take off from Langley in 1927 (Wikimedia Commons)

An Aeromarine 39B plane comes in for landing on Langley's flight deck in 1922. Note no real catwalk, just sailors using safety nets as such. (Naval History and Heritage Command) 

As an experimental vessel, Langley would be the scene of a number of firsts for the Fleet. The era of the aircraft carrier for the US Navy began when a Vought VE7 launched from its decks on October 17, 1922. While not the first time a plane had flown from an American naval vessel, it was the first time it had been done from a ship designed for that purpose. Nine days after this, an Aeromarine 39B safely landed aboard, marking the first time a plane had landed on the carrier. Langley would officially join the fleet in January 1923 and spend the rest of that year touring the East Coast from Norfolk to Bar Harbor, Maine, demonstrating the Navy’s new weapon to admiring crowds. Many came simply to watch the aircraft take off and land on the vessel’s flight deck.

Visitors look at a Curtiss F6C fighter plane aboard Langley in October 1926 (Naval History and Heritage Command)

Langley would join the Pacific Fleet in 1924, participating in the annual fleet exercises until the middle 1930s, during which experiments in everything from flight deck operations to mock attacks on the battleline of capital ships would be conducted. It even found time to play a starring role in the silent film The Flying Fleet released in 1929. Sadly, newer and larger ships such as Lexington (CV 2), Ranger (CV 4), and Enterprise (CV 6) soon relegated Langley to an auxiliary role.

Langley (bottom) dwarfed by USS Saratoga (CV 3- middle) and USS Lexington (CV 2-top) at Bremerton, Washington around 1930. (Naval History and Heritage Command)

Since the end of World War One, Imperial Japan was seen as the most likely future opponent of the US Navy. The vast reaches of the Pacific presented a conundrum in the pre and early aviation era: how does one locate the enemy fleet? The answer was seaplanes: these amphibious aircraft and their accompanying tender could turn any sheltered tropical lagoon into a fully functioning airbase in a matter of hours. No longer capable of operating in its designed role, Langley became an ideal candidate for conversion into a seaplane tender thanks to a roomy design and already installed aircraft maintenance and operation facilities.

Langley seen after conversion to a seaplane tender in 1937. The ship was re-designated with the hull number AV 3. (Naval History and Heritage Command)

This conversion took place at Mare Island California between October 1936 and February 1937. The new tender, with hull number AV 3, would spend the next two years operating out of various ports on the West Coast, scouting for the fleet’s battleships and cruisers. But fate had a curve ball in store for the little tender. War clouds were gathering on the horizon and Langley would soon face its sternest test.