 in the North Pacific Ocean, forming a chain which extends about 1,200 miles west-southwest from Alaska Peninsula towards Siberia to form the southern boundary of the Bering Sea. The Aleutians comprise four groups, the Fox, Andrinov, Rat and Near Islands, and constitute part of the territory of Alaska, USA. Of volcanic origin, there are numerous cones on the chain, many of them still active. The coasts are rocky and surf-warm, rising immediately from the water in steep, bold mountains. The Aleutians of the storm part of the western world. A permanent low-pressure area prevails there. Cold air masses from the polar regions flow with a shearing effect against the warm, moisture-laden air masses over the Japanese current to form cyclonic disturbances. Because of the Earth's rotation, these disturbances move from west to east, and this meteorological phenomenon constitutes one of the most dangerous weapons in the arsenal of our enemies, for it enables the Japanese to operate behind the moving curtain of a storm. In the early days of June 1942, they employed this advantage in an all-out attempt to secure absolute domination of the entire Pacific Ocean. Behind eastward-moving storms, they dispatched two invasion fleets against two widely separated objectives, Midway Island and Dutch Harbor, an operation designed to break the American line of sea defense upon which the security of the Pacific coast depends. Both attempts failed. American air forces engaged the enemy task force at Midway, achieving an historic victory. And of Dutch Harbor, American land-based planes from secret American airfields swarmed down seemingly out of nowhere to knock out one, two, troop-filled transports, three heavy cruisers, two destroyers and one aircraft carrier. In pursuit of the enemy, our army and Navy airmen flew through storm and fog and hurricane, one-fifth on instruments, four-fifths on luck, 20 hours out of 24 sometimes, through blind passes by uncharted peaks, down through zero ceilings, not knowing whether the enemy fleet or a mountain lay below, sweating it out for hour after blind hour of continuous flight and home without benefit of directional beam to land on unlighted runways, refueled and take off into gray, blind hell. There is no monument to the many who went out and did not return. They fought and patrolled in many instances until their fuel was gone, knowing they would be forced down at sea, but unwilling to break off contacts they had made with enemy forces. Few were alive of those that flew against the Japs in the Battle of Dutch Harbor. If you wish to see their monument, you Americans here at home, look around you. In retiring, the remnants of the defeated Japanese task force landed troops on the undefended islands of Atiu, Agatiu and Kiska. We immediately undertook the offensive. So commenced our march out along the bridge toward Asia. In late August of 1942, a large detachment of our troops landed on an island several hundred miles out along the chain, and under two hours by bomber from Kiska. The name of this island is ADAC, and it is closer to Japan than any other American outpost. Typical of the Aleutian chain, it is windswept treeless rainsoath, carpeted with sphagnum, a flat spongy vegetation like undersea growth, which oozes water at every step. The only bird life on the island is scavenger ravens, big, black wind ruffled. Remote as the moon and hardly more fertile, ADAC is next to worthless in terms of human existence. Its sole value is that of a pin on a staff officer's map, but that value is measureless. Strategically, ADAC is one of the most important locations in the world. Eleven days after the occupation, an airfield was completed, and the first U.S. bombers sat down. Three days later, flights took off on a bombing mission to Kiska, with complete fighter protection. Since that time, missions over Kiska have become a daily affair. The airfield is the heart of the island, beating with a half million horsepower of heavy and medium bombers, Navy amphibians, pursuit ships, transforms. The sound of the engines warming up starts before dawn, echoing back from the mountains to flank the field. Every day, weather permitted, the bombers take off in at least one mission. A first flight takes off in the sunrise, others following regular intervals, so that Kiska's under bombardment every hour until nightfall leads to the airfield, and without which the airfield could not exist, is ADAC's excellent harbor. Landlocked on three sides with a natural island breakwater, it enables heavy draft vessels to come inshore and unload by lighter, under almost any weather conditions. If the airfield is the heart of ADAC, the harbor is its hungry mouth, its demands are ever on the increase. By day and by night, freighters, tankers, transports, deposit munitions, supplies, mail upon the beach, standing guard over all the defense installations, coastal batteries, anti-aircraft emplacements, machine gun posts. There is nothing vulnerable about ADAC any longer. These are constantly circled by aerial patrols and never-ending relays, boats, those sea-going in-fighters stand by in readiness for a surprise landing attempt. Offshore destroyers keep endless vigil, slipping like ghosts through the fogs, challenging each hull down speck of an approaching vessel on the horizon, listening with their undersea ears for the beat of an engine, scanning the seas for the plume of Periscope, standing rugged duty in the bearing patrol, or slipping into port on the flank of a convoy. Although the sea lanes to ADAC are constantly traveled by convoys and contact with enemy submarines is a daily occurrence, sinkings in these waters have been few and far between. Contact with an enemy submarine may continue on and off for hours. During which the undersea craft maneuvers for position to attack, venturing within the radius of the convoy's undersea detectors, only to crash down, then kill engines and lie silent on the bottom as our destroyers bear down and release depth charges. Our destroyers and maybe reconnaissance have held the undersea enemy well in check. The flow of men, munitions and supplies flows ceaselessly on. The gigantic task of furnishing every American expeditionary force with the materials needed in carrying the fight to the enemy falls to the army's service forces. ASF is the bloodstream of our whole military body, maintaining its every organ and muscle. ADAC presents a special problem as the darn island furnishes nothing toward human needs, save drinking water, everything else must be brought here. Food, fuel for men and motors, machinery, munitions, shelter material, raise these basic requirements to the nth power, add parts and replacements for everything from caterpillar tractors to can openers, plus the operations of estimating, purchasing, assembling, transporting, delivering, and becomes apparent why the job of supplying a military force is now dignified by a $12 word like logistics. Since the original landing, the manpower of ADAC has been constantly augmented, where before it was hundreds, now it is thousands. Troops arrive after a voyage that may take anywhere from a week to a month, depending on the sea route. But it took more than a single month to land them here. The months of training that toughen them to rigors of wind and weather, that taught them to handle their weapons that made them into soldiers. Add those months to the period of the voyage from the states. On ADAC, down eastern accents mixed with Texas draws and middle-western twangs and Brooklynese, bookkeepers, grocery clerks, college men, and dirt farmers. That is, of course, ex-dirt farmers, ex-bookkeepers, ex-college men. Soldiers now, as though all their lives had been nothing but. First for the day, special orders and news appear on the bulletin board. Since newspapers and magazines are usually from a month to three months out of date, these radio news flashes are the only means by which the soldier knows what's going on outside. No fresh meat, no green vegetables, powdered eggs, tin, bully beans, potatoes, canned tomatoes, peanut butter, canned fruit and coffee make up the basic diet. And biscuits, barrels full of biscuits. Appetites are huge. Officers and men attend the same mess. As often as not, an officer doesn't display the insignificance is ranked. The salute is reserved for rare occasions, but discipline does not suffer. Customary military formality is relaxed, plain civil necessity taking its place. After months in an outpost like ADAC, there is a tendency on the part of the soldier to think and live only in terms of the present. That far away world from which he came begins to seem like a dream to him. A letter in his hand is proof of the reality of that world, of Saturday night dances, gelapes and ice cream sodas of sport pages, shaving in the same mirror with the old man. A letter means more than his paycheck to the soldier. If he happens to be in the air corps, he'd gladly make an extra flight over Kiska for one more letter. No moving pictures, no stage door canteens or USO, no girls, prettier otherwise. Nothing to drink, not even a coke. Candy bars, cigarettes and chewing gum are rationed. But you never hear any bellyache. The extraordinary fact is that morale actually gets strong when the closer troops come to the enemy. On ADAC proper, morale is first rate. Years diked up its inlet and drained off its waters by means of a channel to the sea. It was very sourcefulness in exploiting a natural formation which made possible the completion of the field in 10 days and 11 nights, for the work never ceased. Bulldozers shifted thousands of tons of the lava ash which composed the bed of the lagoon, not a new gain to the corps that built the Panama Canal. As the waters receded, grading crews followed, leveling and impacting the area in preparation for the final surface. This surface was not to be the usual concrete runway of an airport, but a steel one whose sections had been prefabricated in American meals. It was put down by the infantry, of course. In 36 hours, half square feet of it. Only the severest weather kept our planes grounded. Local storms materialized, deluged the island and passed on or dissipated, all within a few short minutes. It's a land of cloud bursts and rainbows. If you don't like the weather, wait a minute, the soldier says. Everything the weatherman has to offer may be had in a single day. Downpours, hurricane winds, hail, snow, fog, sleet and sunshine. It is not so much bad weather as changing weather that makes flying hazardous to the uninitiated there. A new pilot must learn the side slip through local squalls and sit her down in a field rimmed by mountains and under a half foot of water. Fuller bombers make it back, but often they are sorely crippled and the wounded are dead aboard. One of the day's mission is the highlight of each 24 hours. Eyes turned skyward and ears strained for the faint beat of approaching engines. At the first sound an alert is flashed to the ground defenses. Units clear for action. Anti-aircraft machine guns are stripped. Ammunition broken out and everything is put in readiness for an enemy who may be tailing our flights home. Bombers went out and six are coming back. The remainder circle the field, another coming to earth each time around. Those damaged are with wounded aboard taking priority. It's a revelation how much punishment one of these big bombers can take and still navigate. Unless both sets of controls are shot away or an explosive shell finds the gas tank, the odds are all in her making it safely home. Anyone who's been over will tell you that the most wonderful ride in the world is the ride back from Kisker. No matter if two engines have conked out and daylight is pouring through the wings, there's just something about the scenery on the way home. Those proceed to the field operations tent of the bomber command where they will be questioned as results and observations. Their jigsaw reports taken singly are compared and cross-checked until a complete and accurate record of the operation has been assembled. Thereafter they're dismissed with nothing to do till tomorrow to eat, drink and be married. But Adak's tomorrow begins today with the directive from Kodiak Island, Intelligence Center, a photographic ship accompanies missions to Kisker. It's tasked to follow the bombers over their target recording the immediate results of the bombardment, also enemy defense activities and installations camouflage. These photographs are studied by specialist interpreters and submitted with comments to the general and his staff officers, Colonel William Prince and Colonel C.M. McCorkle. Here is Kisker, her camp area with its steel huts, her hangers, her underground railway, her gun installations. Kisker, one of the hottest spots on the earth or above. The main objectives and any mission from Adak are the destruction of enemy shipping and route to Kisker, destruction of installations on the island, harassing of enemy personnel. When the broader aspects of the operation have been decided upon, the senior officers of the bomber and fighter units work out its details. Among considerations in planning a mission of the type of aircraft to be employed, the weight and type of bombs, the time, altitude and direction of the attack, all of these are interrelated, a change of one influencing all of the others. The overall determining factor is weather. For this reason, the Navy meteorologist plots his charts up to the very time of takeoff. A change of weather at the last moment may mean a complete revision of tomorrow's plans. Tomorrow is Sunday. Our posts on the island, Catholic, Protestant and Jewish chaplains, not priests, ministers or rabbis, but chaplains are leading fighting men, their defaultions. Under the snows of an Aleutian mountain, these defenders of the faith exercise the first of their four freedoms. But so far as the business of war is concerned, Sunday on Adak is like any other day. There's a mission going out at 13 o'clock. Bombs must be brought down to the fields in their camouflaged dumps. It carries either 16, 250 pounders, 12, 500 pounders or 8, 1,000 pounders. The size of the bomb to be employed depends upon the nature of the target. Since the target is small, there's a better chance of hitting it for the size of 250 pounders than with a single, large bomb. On the other hand, in congested areas such as the campsite at Kiska, a blockbuster comes into its own. Tail fins and fuses are put on directly before the assembled bomb is hoisted into the bomb bay. When the time comes, bombs can be released either individually in sticks or in salvos. Belts of ammunition are brought to machine guns and threaded into receivers ready for firing. The rounds are put onto the belts in successions of greens, red-pipped tracers, yellow incendries and black regulations. Each moving part of each gun has been tended with watchmaker's care and every belt of ammunition is cleaned, oiled and checked before the takeoff. It is 12, 40 o'clock and the pilots who are going to fly the mission receive final instructions. Three flights, two of B-24s and one of B-7 deans are to go over the target. The first flight at 1,100 feet to drop 500 pounders on anti-aircraft installations of North Head, then to proceed along the coastline strapping to the western limits of the camp area. The second flight at 7,500 feet to drop 1,000 pound bombs on the camp area. The third flight at 4,500 feet to destroy hangars with 500 pound bombs. Second and third flights to follow with intervals of 45 seconds. Three fighters to proceed each bomber flight at 600 feet and three fighters to afford overhead protection from enemy aircraft. Begin to assemble around the ships awaiting the appearance of their officers. A bomber crew is a team and the longer it's together the better the team work. Theirs is a mutual responsibility. The safety of the ship and the lives of all the others may depend on any single member. Trust, respect or implicit in such a relationship if it is to endure. Maybe in the beginning you don't like the color of a guy's hair but if he's all there at his job you'll get to like it fine. Enlisted men eat, sleep, fly together. Their voices on the intercom become familiar, easy to understand and understanding is vital. Every gunner knows the quality of every other's marksmanship and courage. The navigator can plot a thousand mile course over open sea and make a landfall. Eight men can testify. Trust and respect for the bombardier, the radio operator, the engineer, co-pilot and trust and respect for the ship they fly. A monument ought to be put up to that pre-war fraternity of high school speed maniacs. For out of their ranks our fighter pilots are largely drawn. They bring to their hazardous undertaking split second judgment, inspiration, daring. Lieutenant George I. Riddell, 12 strapping missions over Kiska. Lieutenant Holly P. Mills, 14 missions. Lieutenant Lyle A. Bean, 13 missions. Major Milton Ashkins, 15 missions. Lieutenant Henry J. Strankowski, 11 missions. Colonel Jack Channault, son of General Channault of the Flying Tigers. Colonel Jack has a zero and a submarine to his trevett. A last minute weather observation is made. The word is given to go. It's good luck and over the hill. The aerial camera goes aboard. The bomber pilot informs his crew the exact part their ship is to play in the mission. Your bomber pilot is of a different breed, your fighter, where the fighter is reckless and inspired. The bomber pilot is responsible, determined. Because of the size and impoundability of his ship, there are no last moment decisions for him. And besides the big, intricate, costly piece of machinery that a heavy bomber is, he has the lives of six or eight others to think about. 100 men, nine bombers, 12 fighters, are setting out to attack and immobilize 10,000 men behind naval and military defenses. This is the significance of aerial supremacy. But behind this supremacy lies the enormous system which makes it possible for the ships to take off. ASF, Naval Convoy, Army Air Transport, the Corps of Engineers, Army and Navy Intelligence, Signal Corps, Ordnance and Ground Forces. These have done their part for today. The stage is set. Rehearsals are over. The actors are ready. The curtain is going up. But this is no make-believe drama. They will be playing for keeps. Got the first bomber down on ADAC and led the original mission over Kiska. Thunder of engines makes the earth tremble and the ravens rise. The bond proceeds toward Kiska. It's about an hour and three-quarters from ADAC to Kiska. One of the most hotly defended of enemy-held areas, Kiska is also one of the most strongly fortified. The Japs have dug in like so many moles. An estimated force of 10,000 goes underground at the sound of our approaching engines. We cannot by air attack hope to annihilate. We can only harass the force on Kiska. Cripply Islands defences keep the enemy from adding to its resources while we build our own fighting strength to the day of the hour when we shall undertake a landing operation. Act is maintained between the bombers and ADAC throughout the flight, which proceeds at military speed 165 miles per hour. Part of the journey, the waste guns are swung into position. Turret mechanisms tested and trial rounds fired going out to the target. Crew members have even been known to play stud poker. The route is quite familiar by now. Many pilots and crews have made the flight 25, 30 times. Long about the time, Amchitka is sighted. They begin to look out for enemy planes. The men whose regular job it is say no matter how often a fellow's gone over, he always feels funny up there over Kiska. At a signal from the squadron leader, the pilots will open throttle and the planes will go into the bombing run. For a minute and a half to two minutes, they will proceed at level flight in an absolutely straight line toward the target, thereby enabling the bombardier to make his computations. Wind velocity, speed, temperature, altitude, drift. There can be no deviation whatever in the flights if the bombs are to find the target. Before Kiska volcano, the mission deploys. Each flight going to its designated altitude in preparation for the run. The enemy will endeavor to throw the flights off their runs. And to this, he will bring all his firepower to bear. The earth below will blaze with hatred. Our ships will heave and rock in the ACAC. Machine gun bullets may make a filigree of their wings. High explosives may open up holes big enough for a man to crawl through. Outer defense of Kiska harbor. The object is to hit the target, not to avoid anti-aircraft. Remember this, you're just as liable and into it as a way from it. The best way is to forget what's happening outside and make the run by instruments. That way, if it comes, well, you just look over your shoulder and see a man with a long beard and you say, good morning, Father Abraham. I want every man to stick by his gun till I say he can leave. Use every round of ambient fire straight at the gun flashes until it's... At 4,500 feet, they're destroyed, burning. Our bombs found the target. Nine bombers came out and nine are going home.