 Proudly, we hail. New York City, where the American stage begins, here is another program with a cast of outstanding players and featuring Bill Lipton as Sergeant Russell Brown. Public service time has been made available by this station for your Army and your Air Force to bring you this story as Proudly, we hail the United States Air Force. Our story is entitled Mission Completed. This is a true story of a Sergeant who served in the United States Air Force during World War II. This story is fact, not fiction. In just a moment, our first act curtain will rise. Here is an important message for you young men with two or more years of college training. You are needed right now in your rapidly expanding United States Air Force. The Air Force needs men today to be the leaders of tomorrow, men who will follow in the tradition of the Air Force and its great leaders. If you are between 20 and 26 and a half years of age and can qualify, you are invited to join the ranks of modern air pioneers by becoming an aviation cadet. Stop in at your nearest United States Army and United States Air Force Recruiting Station, or right to Aviation Cadet Branch, headquarters, United States Air Force, Washington, 25 D.C. Remember, you are needed now. And now with Bill Lipton in the role of Sergeant Russell Brown, your Army and your Air Force present the proudly we hail production, Mission Completed. The story of a war is never the story of one particular person or one particular place. It's all the stories of all the people and all the places which total victory. And the names which you and I most vividly recall are the names of a war so recently fought in one. Many familiar names like Casino, the Yorktown, Roger Young, the town, the bulge, and some names not too familiar but still an important part of the story of that war. Such a name is Sergeant Russell Brown of the 19th Bombardment Group. It was Sunday morning, December 14, 1941. It's a long time ago now. Years ago, a lifetime ago. And I've never been back. And you don't forget things like that particular Sunday. You try, but it won't work. I don't think anyone who was there can ever forget any of it. Maybe you don't remember it clear and straight like a player's story, but it keeps coming back when you wish it wouldn't. Jumbled up maybe, but... Well, terrible. The way some dreams are terrible. And you remember little things. Mindanao was no garden spot, believe me. It was a chunk of sand and scrubby-looking tree set in a circle of blasting blue that was the South Pacific. That Sunday morning, the sun was up at its usual hour scorching everything in sight. It was incredibly hot. It wasn't a breath of wind. And, as usual, bugs were... relentless. They had no respect for the Sabbath. We'd been on Mindanao for a couple of days ever since Clark Field became too jab-ridden for healthy living. Most of us got away with just our flying clothes and a change of underwear. Hidden under shelters around the Big Del Monte Plantation which we called home where... let's miss it again... were seven B-17s, six and a reluctant dragon, which was our particular pride and joy. We'd been having ignition trouble with her lately like Chief Engineer Goody said. How do you expect me to fix it when there isn't a decent set of tools this side of the Golden Gate? I'm no Houdini. Brown, are you listening to me? Brown, take that lousy music box out of your bridge work and talk to me. So I took the lousy music box out of my bridge work and gave them the snappiest answer I could think of and all that heat and sweat. Ah, nuts. I, uh... I don't think your language is exactly appropriate for a qualified member of the Air Force, Sergeant. Look, if somebody doesn't come up with some tools around here soon we might just as well go home. Yeah, and there's just about as much chance as someone coming up with some tools around here as there is of someone around here going home. Of course we get called for a mission. They're not gonna be calling us for any mission. We've only been here two days. I'll bet you a week's pay they don't even know where we are. Mission, Schmission. It could happen. Well, don't hold your breath until it does. We wouldn't be able to get the dragon off the ground. So there's your answer. Can't get the dragon off the ground? We can't go on any mission. Anyway, the Skipper says tools are coming in from the mainland. What mainland? How do I know what mainland? All I know is what the Skipper says. What mainland is for supply to worry about? Trust me, but catch. Thanks. Hey, uh, maybe we can scrounge some tools from one of the other ships. Yeah, maybe we'll have a white Christmas too. You're just bitter. Just because your plane won't fly and the other six will, you're bitter. You're gonna look awful funny when that harmonic is sticking out of the top of your head. You just try it and you'll be whistling Dixie through a split lip. I still want to get that ignition fixed. We could get called for a mission. That was Goody always poppin' his wig. And that Sunday morning was no exception to the rule. Well, you can't blame him, though. He was plenty worried about the plane. His assistant engineer, Bill Williams, was lying on a cot in our tent reading a newspaper dated May 20th, 1940. He had a few comments to make, too. The dragon lady's heart is colder than the soles of a well-diggest feet. Man, oh, man. I'll still take Dale. Dale who? Dale. You know, she's dating Flash Gordon. Oh, her. She ain't for real. Oh, but the dragon lady is for real. I just feel my little old heart pumping away. You know she's for real. Bill Killian, the radio operator, was asleep. And Sergeant Bob Schlaudi, our bombardier, was out batting the breeze with a couple of guys from one of the other planes. The officers on the dragon were Captain Wailess, Lieutenant Mianow, navigator, and Lieutenant Haborke, the copilot. They were all good Joe's. Like I said in the beginning, that Sunday morning started like any other morning. Hot, real hot, and real nothing, too. They just lay around in our sacks, goofing off, and fighting the bugs like crazy. And around nine to nine-thirty, Schlaudi came charging into the tent. Hey, Goody! Goody! He seemed excited about something. I reached for my shoes. Hey, Goody, we're going out this morning. Something's cooking, something real big. Schlaudi, you gotta stay out of that hot sun. Look, I'm giving it to you straight. We're going out. Maybe you are, we're not. I told you the ignition shot on the dragon. Yeah, well, we're not taking the dragon. Not taking the... Goody stopped in the middle of a sentence. He just looked at Schlaudi hard. Bill put down his newspaper, reached over, and shook Killian. Come on, wake up sleeping beauty, bad news. Come on. What's the matter? Breakfast and bread? No, a message from Garsher. Seems there's a mission scheduled for this morning. For a minute, I thought it was something important. Look, this is important of what Goody says is true. I think I've been bitten by a tzitzi fly. I think it's strangely drowsy. No, kid. Brown, play me something soothing, huh? Waf me back into the arms of a morphine. Look, if it's really a mission, not just a room, Goody says a dragon's staying on the ground. I don't think I'd like that very much. Well, none of us would like. We've got a lot of hours in in the dragon. Wouldn't seem quite right to be going out without him. Yeah, just pull us through some nasty stuff. Mission and no mission. If the dragon don't go, I don't go. Goody, you don't understand. This is big, real big, like I said. A fella told me that we... I told you, I'm staying right here. What makes you think they need us anyhow? There's six other ships here. They don't need us. Hello, gentlemen. Thanks, hut! As you were. You're in on this room, too, sir? It's no rumor, Sergeant. Just received word from headquarters. There's a large Japanese landing convoy in Lagospe Bay. It's a little south of Manila. We're the nearest base to the target. Nip landing convoy. Sitting ducks? Yes, exactly. Sitting ducks. Only there may be some zeros around to make sure they keep sitting. Well, after we've laid a couple of eggs for those sitting ducks to hatch, we can take care of the zeros, too. Uh, sir, about the reluctant dragon... I read your report, Sergeant. There's nothing I can do. No supplies have come into the base for a month now. Well, maybe if we took the ignition system out of another ship... I feel justice strongly about the dragon as any of you. I'm afraid this mission's a little too important to be delayed by sentiment. We're assigned to another plane, all of us. Yes, sir. And that was it. Captain felt as badly about going out in a strange ship as we did. He could see it in the slow way he turned and left the tent. Nobody said anything for a minute or two, but... we were all having the same kind of cold, hard feeling. It was a mixture of the feeling you always get before leaving on a mission, and the feeling you get when something important's going to happen. And you suddenly realize that someone who's always shared the important things with you before... isn't going to be there. Leaving the reluctant dragon behind wasn't going to be easy. I tried to throw off the uneasy feeling I had. Any chance of getting off a Cable Graham Killian? Just ride it out, take it up the headquarters. I'll get it through for you. Can I use your pen? Sure. Here. Hey, uh, you got that pad, Goody? I want to send my regards to Dragon Lady. The guy that told me about us going out wouldn't say what ship we'll be on. I tried to find out from him, only he kept saying he didn't know. Just a little outie, please. Do you sending a message home, Shloudie? Uh, I stopped in at headquarters. I'm on my way. They're going to read your handwriting. I won't have any trouble with mine, no trouble at all. It wasn't much of a message. Just a few words to my wife telling her not to worry. Goody scribbled off a few words in the hand of the paper to me. Bill's covered almost a whole sheet. But then he never could say anything short and sweet. I grabbed my cap and started out of the tent. You going, Al Brown? Yeah, you want something? Hey, you can send this too. I'd like to let my sister know that, uh, never mind. Go ahead. I got time. Go on and finish it. I'll take care of what you got. I'll send mine when we get back. Okay. I'll check the ammunition to meet you at the plane. Yeah, I'm not sure. As I walked out in the sunlight, I turned for a minute. And I looked back at Killian sitting on the edge of his cot. And I wondered if he had the same kind of feeling I had. That hard, cold feeling. We'll be taking off in just a few minutes. There's no tail gun and no turrets on the ship, he's got four fairly reliable motors. But guns we do have are in good shape. Ammunition in, Bill? Well, as much as I could beg, borrow or steal, sir. How's the radio, Killian? Maybe it will get guy Lombardo. It's a clear day. How's the parade of that? How far is the gas we pay, sir? Should be over the target at 1430 hours. Any other questions? Okay, man, let's go. No one turned to look at the dragon sitting quiet at the wrong end of the runway. No one turned. But they knew she was there. And no one said anything as they climbed into the plane and the metal hatch slammed shut. And the heavy motors throbbed in our ears and in our heads. And in our hearts. And the wheels turned on the hot concrete and the trees outside began picking up speed as they backed away from us. And then there weren't any trees. We were airborne. The mission had started. In feature in the role of Sergeant Russell Brown in the Proudly We Hail production mission completed, we'll return in just a moment for the second act. In 1917, our Air Force consisted of a half-dozen flying flivers attached to the aviation section of the Signal Corps. But in less than 35 years, these wood slats and canvas-covered planes have become mighty intercontinental bombers and flashing jet fighters. And our Air Force has developed into the most powerful in the world. If you can qualify, your Air Force needs you. You're needed to fly one of its new advanced aircraft. And the best way for you to help your country and yourself is to enroll in the United States Air Force Aviation Cadet Program. If you're between 20 and 26 and a half with at least two years of college in good physical condition, you can take aviation cadet training. Yes, there's a job for you in Air Force Blue, whether you fly vital transport ships or the speedy jets. For full information, visit your United States Army and United States Air Force Recruiting Station or nearest Air Force Base or write to Aviation Cadet Branch, Headquarters, United States Air Force Washington 25 D.C. You are listening to Proudly We Hail. And now we present the second act of Mission Completed. We were the first of six planes to take off. As we cleared the field, climbed and circled above the island, I looked down in time to see one of the remaining five ships throw a tire and skid off the runway. The other four got up without any trouble. I looked around the cabin. The crew were all in their positions on the alert. I could tell they were worried about being in a new ship. Kilian's hands were restless and Goody kept looking around for something to adjust, only taking care of everything before we took off. I looked out of the window, watching the white clouds go streaking past. Usually, this makes me sleepy and it's easy to doze off for a little while, but today I was too much on edge to sleep. Time was an enemy now, too. Five minutes at Amanda now, we ducked into a heavy cloud bank and lost the rest of the formation. An hour later, one of the engines conked out and Goody cursed like a trooper for a solid couple of minutes. The strain was like a rubber band stretching, getting tighter and tighter. Kilian used torque like a drowning man reaching for a storm. I was there once, three or four years ago, quite a town. I was civilian then, college freshman, sea of the world, but only Shang, I saw it coming. I know the end of that story. Shang, I saw you coming and you got taken. Oh, brother. Sure did. I'll tell you what happened. Hold your hats, man. It's a gospel truth, so help me. The place was a nightclub. I think it was a real swank gambling parlor. All you had to do to get service was snap your fingers and a lovely little mist come trotting up with the sauce. Anything you wanted. All on the house. What do you got for time? Relax, boy. You got a couple hours to go. First, I just sat and had a few free ones. After a while, I started moseying around. Then I started playing roulette. Didn't have much dough. Just thought I'd take a flyer in the wheel and quit when I lost. First thing I knew, I had so much money, I didn't know how to put it. The next thing you knew, you were back coppin' free drinks again on the house, huh? You ever heard me tell this story before? No, not this particular version. They all end the same way. Boy meets roulette wheel. Boy makes heat big dough. Boy meets girl who likes looks of boy and dough. Then the look on the wheel isn't so good and boy's back coppin' free drinks on the house. Hey, you think this is a lot of replaced mahjong? Chap zeros you can fight. They come buzzin' at you like angry hornets and you're slappin' down. You can't fight the seconds and the minutes and the hours. You can't get your hands on them. They sit right there in front of you. They're all around you. And there's nothing you can do. Words don't drown them. They're like ropes around your stomach. They're hammers inside your head. Took my wristwatch off and put it away in my pocket so I wouldn't keep checkin' it every five seconds. Bill looked like he was asleep. Only I knew he wasn't. No one could sleep with the racket of thoughts that kept runnin' around in your head. Killian ran out of story and out of words. I racked my brain for somethin' to say that would keep up the line of kidding, but it was no good. We sat there and waited through the hour-long minutes. The rubber band was stretching tighter and tighter. You got to a point where you were almost ready to scream to relieve the pressure that was building up inside. And then we heard, Pilot to Bombardier. Pilot to Bombardier. It'll be over the target in 20 minutes. Over the target in 20 minutes. Goody been over his bombsite, making a few changes and adjustments. Killian and I checked our guns. Because if the captain was right, we'd have some target practice coming up. Goody had his head up and was staring down at the slick blue water below us. Pilot to Bombardier. Pilot to Bombardier. It'll be over the target in five minutes. Gonna be some maddy, unhappy jabs this afternoon. I'll call back. I don't see it, sir. To the right, slowly. I think dark mine below the clouds. Got it, sir. Pilot to Bombardier. Central altitude for 9,000 feet. Ready for the run. Yes, sir. Bomb door's open. A cool draft swept through the plane as the big bomb door swung slowly open. Enemy ships attacking from the left. Open fire when they get in range. Out of the sunlight, 18 jab-0s swept toward us with studied precision. They banged to get in our tail. They're coming in on the left. Open fire. The first zero swung across my sights, but I held the trigger because I was afraid of hitting our own elevator. I fired. Now watch the bullets streak through the plane elevator. I remember looking what am I doing, trying to bring down our own plane? The chatter of the guns were ear-shattering inside the cabin and the sweat was pouring off Killian's face. He threw an arm across his eyes for a minute. Fire. By this time, we're in over the target. I heard Shloudy yell. I'm delayed. Later, I found out we sank one of the big jab troopships, but just then I was busy with a zero swinging in from the right. He's coming in on our side. Goody, get him. I say to him. Goody fired and spun away from his gun. He dropped to one side and I grabbed for the gun. Get fired. The zero disappeared below us in flames. I kept moving from one gun to another. Goody managed to load that ignition for me. The zeroes kept coming in on us like hornets. Finally, only two were left on the right and on the left. I didn't have time to flip a coin, but I picked the one on the right as the lucky man. We were flying wingtip to wingtip through a canyon. I looked across and saw the jab pilot looking straight at me. Then he saw my gun and tried to wing over. I rigged his plane and saw him crash into a mountainside. Then I jumped for the gun on the left side of the cabin, but the fight was over. The other zero tossed a sloppy victory roll in our direction and headed east. Home was a nightmare. I didn't think we were going to it first. The cabin rigged and gas was leaking out of the left wing tank. The plane was a flying syph. Counted over 1,500 bullet holes in it later. Two engines were gone and there wasn't a stable piece of control cable to be found. Lieutenant Mayer now came back with a thermos jug of water. How's Goody doing, Brown? He'll be all right, sir. Well, that hand wouldn't hurt so much if we could relieve a little of the weight in the chute. But I don't think we better take it off. Can you slide one of those MD ammo boxes across the floor? Good idea. Here. Let's feel better in a minute, Goody. You're timing that turn again? Yeah, I lose it every 10 minutes or so. Well, I'd better go forward again. By the way, how are you feeling? I'll be all right when I get a little sleep. Yeah, and a few bandages. Bandages? Yeah, take a look at your left arm. Bully excitement. I hadn't even felt the bullet that chewed its way through my left arm. Goody and I got a big laugh over it. We agreed that if anything had happened, we could have veiled out together and maybe between his good left arm and my good right arm, we'd have made a perfect three-point landing. I had a tough time keeping Goody conscious. Every time he started to drop his head, I made him take another drink out of the thermos. What is this? What are the tools? What are the ignitions? There are no tools. Goody, Goody, snap out of it. I work without the right tools. His voice kept getting softer and his body was heavy as he leaned against me. I thought that the trip coming out was the longest one I'd ever make, but this one going back was a real nightmare. He began to feel as though he'd been flying through this nightmare for always. We passed over island after island and I'd always say this is it. We're home, we're home. And then, finally, Whales called. Been an hour ahead. We won't make the base and gonna land near the town. Hang on, that's gonna be rough. The field he'd picked was blocked to keep enemy planes from landing, but we came in anyway. It was about 1805 hours and it was a light drizzle. Captain Whales cranked down the landing gear, but both tires had been shot away. He was right, it was gonna be rough. He was pretty and held on. The right wing hit a palm tree. The left elevator was torn away. We hit the ground hard and slid on the nose for almost 50 feet. Mission completed. News that is good news to you college men. Once again, America's young men are being offered the chance to get to the top in the United States Air Force. With the Air Force expanding, this means a wonderful new opportunity for you if you can qualify. Being with pay, you receive your silver wings and your commission as a second lieutenant and then you fill an important Air Force job as a pilot, navigator, bombardier, radar observer, flight engineer or electronics officer. Remember, this is the jet age and you have the golden opportunity to get started in it now. For full information, visit your United States Army and United States Air Force Recruiting Station or nearest Air Force Base or write to Aviation Cadet Branch, Headquarters, United States Air Force, Washington 25 D.C. I'll repeat that address. Write to Aviation Cadet Branch, Headquarters, United States Air Force, Washington 25 D.C. This has been another program on Proudly We Hail, presented transcribed in cooperation with this station by the United States Army and the United States Air Force Recruiting Service. This program featured Bill Lipton as Sergeant Russell Brown. This is Kenneth Banghart speaking and inviting you to tune in this same station next week for another interesting story on Proudly We Hail.