“THE PIPER CUB AND THE LST AIRCRAFT CARRIER”
(A WWII POOR MAN’S CARRIER)
By John C. Kriegsman
Liaison Pilot Air Officer, 77th Infantry Division Artillery
My empty Piper Cub weighed 650 lbs. It cost $3500.00 to
build; our main purpose was to spot artillery fire. We
also did dozens of flunky jobs. Both the Germans and
the Japs told their people not to fire on the little
planes with the big wings, because the muzzle blast
would give away their position, and artillery shells
would come in like rain. That was the only protection
we had.
Reminiscing during the last days of WWII, General A. D.
Bruce, Commander, and 77th Infantry Division made the
statement, “The secret weapons of the South Pacific War
were the Piper Cub, and the bulldozer.”
The bulldozer could clear the area for an airfield in a
matter of days. They could make a roadway in a matter
of hours. Using their slave labor it took the Japs
weeks and months to do the same thing. The Piper Cub
airplane was effective, efficient and a cheap way to
see into the jungles, trees and the hills before the
roads were built.
When the 77th loaded the ships for an invasion of an
island, the Cubs had to be disassembled, and loaded on
the deck of a transport ship. At the invasion beach it
had to be carefully loaded into a surging landing craft
for the trip to the crowded beach, replace the wings,
and test flight, all before observing could begin. Very
little could be done until a beachhead was secured, and
the better part of a day could be used. Finding an
1
uncluttered beach to use temporarily as an airstrip was
a problem.
This was the case on July 21, 1944, when the 77th hit
the beach on Guam. Actually, by noon the Cubs were in
the air observing, and directing artillery fire. By
evening they were able to direct the perimeter fires
for protection during the night.
On October 20, 1944, General MacArthur made his famous
return to the Philippines on the Island of Leyte. The
77th was in floating reserve, and was brought on shore
on November 21st. All equipment was made ready. On the
late afternoon of December 6th, about 8,000 men loaded
into small landing craft. Under cover of darkness we
were headed to Ormoc Bay.
Two days before this, there was a tremendous naval
battle between destroyers; about a dozen destroyers on
each side plus a sub and small craft from the Japs.
Both sides lost several destroyers before limping back
to their respective ports. On the next day, General
Bruce sent me to Ormoc Bay to observe if any activity
was going on. I could see nothing happening, and he
gave the order to proceed with the Ormoc Bay invasion.
I stationed my Cubs on the 7th Division Landing strip
about 30 miles south of our beachhead to keep them out
of the action. I boarded a landing ship so I could pick
out a landing strip immediately.
Our convoy with the 77th landed at daybreak at a small
village called Deposito about 10 miles south of Ormoc
City, debarking at 7:00 A.M. on the infamous day of
December 7th. My Cubs were already in the air covering
the landing. General Bruce sent a message to Corps
Commander General Hodges, Commander of the 24th Corps,
“The 77th has landed 7 come 11.” I delivered the
message in minutes. The 7th Div. was coming up the
coast from the south. The 11th Airborne Div. was coming
down the valley from the north of Ormoc City.
2
About 40,000 Japs were in the area. Fortunately, they
were in disarray from their trek over the mountains
from the Eastern shore; they were making an orderly
retreat hoping for seven ships to arrive with
reinforcements from Manila in time to help them.
One transport did arrive at the Port of Ormoc City on
Sunday night, December 12th; they did not know the
307th Combat Team occupied Ormoc City. In stone silence
they waited for the Jap version of an LST loaded with
replacement soldiers to disembark. When the unloading
ramp was lowered, and men began to pour out, all hell
broke loose. In less than one hour only one soldier out
of approximately 750 soldiers remained alive. He was
found a week later curled up in the “Crow’s Nest.” The
other six transports were sunk the next day by the U.S.
Air Force.
For the next week, the fighting became a slaughter of
the enemy. It took six days for two bulldozers to bury
the dead. On Christmas Eve, another Combat Team loaded
on landing craft for an all night “cruise” to Palompon
on the west coast for a surprise landing on Christmas
day, to prevent the escape of the remainder of the
Japanese Army on Leyte. The main street became a
landing strip of the Cubs. They were the only link over
land to Ormoc City. The road was still under control of
the Japs who were in the hills looking down on the
road.
During the week, the 77th going north was met by the
11th coming south. The southern flank of the 77th was
met by the 7th working up the coast from the southern
flank. The island was secured. The area was turned over
to the Americal Div., who still found plenty of the
enemy to deal with.
During this operation, Cub surveillance was constant.
As the infantry occupied an area, flat fields and
roadways were established as airstrips. Cubs were
3
constantly in the air directing artillery fire,
dropping rifle grenades, flushing the Japs out of
buildings, hauling white stove gas to the infantry
units mired in mud, hauling out the dead and wounded,
delivered the mail and blood plasma and flying officers
to observe their units from the air.
Immediately on January 1st, 1945, the 77th moved, back
to the eastern shores on the Gulf of Leyte to prepare
for the next operation. OKINAWA!! We couldn’t even
pronounce the name. During the weeks that followed, we
were continually upgrading our equipment, getting new
recruits and supplies.
Through rumors and the grapevine, we found we were to
secure a group of islands. It developed that they were
near Okinawa, wherever that was. About two weeks before
we were to leave, we found out we were going to leave a
week before the main task force to establish an
anchorage. About that same time we were issued two of
the craziest looking hooks we had ever seen on any
aircraft. Along with the hooks were instructions how
and where they were to be mounted on our Cubs. Mystery
was the order of the day. We figured we were to hook
something, but we did not know what!!
Somehow, word came that we were to operate off an LST
ship, of all things. A Navy Commander would arrive on a
transport ship to explain how the hooks were to be
used. Several days passed, and the transport did
arrive. Contact was made with the Commander. He was
extremely vague. He was unable to supply a picture, or
even sketch how the LST was fitted to hook a Cub, or
why it was necessary in the first place. He did say the
LST was used at Iwo Jima by the Marines, who had L-5
Stinson aircraft. They were much heavier than our Cubs.
They waited on board until an airstrip was secured on
shore, which took about two precious days. Then they
took off, and never returned.
4
LST 776, with a Brodie device mounted on its deck, did
arrive late on the day before the convoy was to leave.
Several of the 77th air section, including Lt.
Montgomery and me, went on board. The crew told us how
the device worked, and what we were expected to do to
get our two Cubs on board without damaging them. Next
day the convoy assembled early to move out for the
Kerama Retto Islands. They were a small group of rocky
mountainous (high hills) islands with no beaches.
The convoy got underway. Our LST was in the convoy. We
had no chance to practice landings or takeoffs. Lt.
Montgomery and I were expected to get on that ship. The
LST could accommodate only two Cubs. Initial
observation of those islands was extremely critical.
With the convoy underway, we were the show of the day.
All eyes and field glasses from nearby ships were on us
as we gingerly flew around the LST valiantly trying to
hook the 3’ by 4’ loop. From the curve of the hook to
the top of the propeller we had about 20” to “play”
with. Lt. Montgomery was the first to hook the loop. I
managed in five passes. Thanks be to God that we did
not damage our precious planes.
LST 776 was a strange looking craft, but very simple.
Forward was a steel pole about 30 ft. high. An arm
protruded over the port side about 50’ at about the
10:00 o’clock position. There was the same thing aft of
the ship with the arm pointing at about the 8:00
o’clock position. The ends of the arms had a cable
going from one to the other like a trolley cable. Both
ends of the arms on top were sort of a receiving
platform for the crew to stand on to manipulate the
trolley.
When a plane was to land, a trolley device would roll
aft on the cable. A nylon rectangle about 3’ wide and
4’ long would be dropped from it. The LST would be
turned into the wind, and at full speed. The LST had
little or no keel. As a result, the ship would roll
5
gently. This meant that those 50’ arms over the side
would make an arc maybe 30’ high. The pilot would
approach this loop in sort of a porpoise fashion. It
was necessary for the pilot to get the rhythm of the
ship as he made his approach, so that when he hooked or worse yet, missed - the loop, the arm would not come
crashing down on him.
Cubs were tail-draggers. When a pilot made a threepoint landing, he pulled the “joy-stick” into his
belly. It was as natural as pulling on your trousers.
Not so when you hooked the loop. You had to remember to
jam the stick ahead at the slightest tug indicating
that you were hooked to the loop. That kept the nose
down so the prop would not go up into the cable, and
get all chewed to pieces.
Probably the worst thing that could happen was to think
that you were hooked when you were not, and you jammed
the stick forward. Diving 30 ft. straight down could
make for a big problem. We started doing this without
any practice or instructions, and the problem was that
things were so close that extreme concentration was
required.
Securely hooked, the trolley would roll down the cable.
The ship’s crew would stop the roll. At the forward end
of the cable, the crew would transfer the Cub to the
cable going on to the ship, and then lower the Cub to
the deck for refueling.
To take off, a small nylon loop about 12 inches in
diameter was installed in the small “eye” at the top of
the hook. The pilot and passenger, in the Cub with its
propeller active, would be lifted up, hooked on the
trolley, and transferred to the larger cable. The crew
would then pull the trolley aft as far as it could go.
It would be held there while the LST headed full-power
into the wind. The pilot would apply full RPM for takeoff. When he had checked his mags, and was ready for
6
take-off he signaled the crew, and they would release
him.
The cable was about 300’ long. When the pilot arrived
at about the 250’ mark he would pull the release chain,
much like flushing an old-fashioned toilet. He still
might not have enough airspeed. By using that 30’
height he could nose down and pick up enough airspeed
to fly just before he hit the water. From there on it
was normal flying until it was time to land and refuel.
We did not feel it was a risky operation at all, as
some did. However, we were concerned about chances to
practice, since we were the only two Cubs which could
observe the initial landings. We were led to believe we
were essential for the success of the whole operation.
The Kerama Retto Islands were a group of about six
small islands about 20 miles west of the southern tip
of Okinawa. The islands formed sort of a circle about
two miles in diameter. An anchorage was to be
established for supplying the invasion forces for
Okinawa. The islands in our hands would make it almost
impossible for the enemy to penetrate into the
anchorage, and do damage to our ships.
March 26, 1945. As the 77th Division convoy approached
the Kerama Rettos at about 30 miles and we were still
over the horizon safe from discovery by the Japs, we
took off, long before the invasion forces got to the
islands. We were sure the Japs would wonder where those
little planes with the big wings came from. The islands
were nothing but rock several hundred feet high, with
no beaches.
Over our radio we were asked if we noticed anything
unusual. We reported a funny thing. All the islands had
dozens of caves with some sort of railroad tracks going
from the water to the caves. There was nothing else
7
around. It turned out this information was probably the
greatest observation we ever made.
Those caves contained small fast skiffs (boats) with at
least one depth charge mounted on them. The Japs
figured an American force might attack Okinawa. They
did not believe anyone would even bother to look at the
Kerama Rettos; otherwise they would have done a better
job camouflaging the tracks, which would have been a
very simple matter.
The Japanese plan for the use of these boats was this.
There were about 350 skiffs in those caves. As the
American convoys assembled to attack Okinawa on Easter
Sunday, these small, rather fast boats would come like
a swarm of bees during the night. They would drive the
boats into the rudders and propellers of these
battleships and cruisers at anchor. It was another
example of a kamikaze mission. The pilot of the boat
had no chance of escaping death before the explosion,
which would have been considerable. It was hoped that
they would cause enough havoc to at least cripple the
American’s capital ships to make them easy prey for
their shore batteries and air force.
The destroyers protecting our little convoy moved into
position, and fired their 5” shells into the caves, and
destroyed those lethal weapons before they had a chance
to go into action.
I doubt that in their wildest dreams the Japs believed
that 1,400 ships would arrive during the night of March
31st to assault the beaches on April 1st. It was the
greatest maneuvering of ships under cover of darkness
that had ever happened up to that time. (V-E Day was
greater.) If there were collisions, they were only
minor. It was an amazing feat, because the captains of
those ships were drawn from all walks of life. Not
necessarily experienced seamen. They trained for this
duty only a few short months before. The captain of our
8
LST 776 was a tobacco farmer from North Carolina by the
name of Copeland, who passed away about 1960.
Flying around the Kerama Rettos, all we could see in
the direction of Okinawa was battleships, cruisers,
destroyers, and mine sweepers softening up the beaches,
and Shuri Castle, which was a huge underground
installation. Two days before the invasion, Long Tom
artillery was placed on two very small atolls about two
miles off the point of Naha. We were called on to
observe the firing of the Long Toms as they zeroed in
on prepared targets in preparation for the landings
next day. Later we found out the Japs used these atolls
for target practice of their own which accounted for
very accurate shooting on their part.
In the course of the operation, tragedies did occur.
Second-in-command of the Division Artillery, Col. Royal
Gervais, Combat Team Commander Col. Lever, along with
several officers and men decided to investigate one of
the nearby caves and maybe get a boat. As they
approached a cave, they saw a couple Japs run inside.
Whereupon, with drawn pistols, they all ran to catch
them for interrogation. As they reached the cave almost
without caution, a terrific explosion occurred! The
cave erupted like it was a huge cannon barrel. Col.
Lever was the first to arrive with several others right
behind him. They caught the full blast. For about six
of them the war was over!
Each night during that week, the 77th convoy would
retire about 50 miles out to sea. In the anchorage they
had little or no protection from anything that might
happen during the night from the shores which were so
close, and not necessarily secured. On about the fifth
night, our LST was to head out as usual with the rest
of the convoy. The trouble was that two of the LST
junior officers went ashore souvenir hunting. They did
not return. The convoy was well on the way out. It was
decided to leave without them.
9
As the LCVP landing craft was hurriedly lifted from the
water, a “pelican” - which secured the boat to the
cable - snapped open on one end of the boat while it
was in mid-air, causing one end to drop abruptly. At
the same time, the end that held shot upwards just as
abruptly. A sailor was on that end riding it up to the
mooring deck. He flew through the air. TO break his
fall he grabbed the hoisting cable just as it was going
over the elevator wheel. He managed to let loose of the
cable, but his legs became entangled, and were crushed
before the wheel could be stopped. When the wheel was
reversed he was removed. Both his legs just dangled. He
was carried to the table in the wardroom, where
sedatives were administrated until a ship’s doctor
could be brought aboard from another ship. Next day he
was transferred to a hospital ship.
That tragedy probably saved us. As a result of the
delay the convoy was out of sight, so we remained in
the anchorage for the night. That convoy as they sat
out at their rendezvous was attacked by a group of
kamikaze planes based on Okinawa or Ie Shima (Iwo Jima)
since the invasion was still a couple days away.
Several ships were hit; about 60 men were killed. One
ship suffered very heavy casualties. A kamikaze plane
managed a direct hit into the wardroom where the
Admiral in command of the convoy, the Combat Team
Commander, Col. Tanzola, his S-1, S-2, S-3, and about
40 other officers and men were killed or wounded. The
S-4 was Winthrop Rockefeller who escaped being killed,
but was badly burned on his face and hands. He could
have gone home, but he stayed on until he could return
to duty.
On about the fifth day of the Kerama Retto operation, a
landing strip was established on the Island of Zamami.
It was mostly deep sand. However, it had a flat area
about the size of a city lot with some sort of grass
growing on it. We could make our take-off roll on the
hard surface. By the time we got to the really deep
10
sand we would be light enough to pick up speed, and
almost roll out over the water.
The big trouble was landing. Because of the rough hills
being so close we had to make our approach over the
water in spite of the prevailing tailwind. When we
landed we almost stopped dead in the deep sand. While
it saved us from going into the hills, it presented a
problem. With the stick into our belly we could not
move. If we released the stick a little too much the
wind would blow our tail up in the air. This happened
once; luckily the propeller stopped crosswise, and did
not get broken as the plane nosed over. That strip
established our base for the remainder of the week.
Our wonderful LST had a Bailey Bridge in its hold. On
the first day of the invasion, it was ordered to
deliver it to the beach. The bridge was heavy. The
Captain wanted to be able to deliver it on dry land.
The keel-less LST was designed to hit the shore. A
cable with an anchor was aft of the LST for pulling off
the beach when the unloading was finished. As the LST
was driven full-speed to the shore the anchor was
dropped and the cable paid out.
The trouble was that when the LST was about 50 ft. from
the shore the last of the cable paid out, and the reel
was empty. A sailor was wide-eyed and aghast. He yelled
out, ”There goes the last of the cable!!” Suddenly,
sweat appeared on the Captain’s brow. Fortunately, when
the bridge was unloaded the LST was higher in the
water, and the tide came in. A couple of “frogs”
recovered the anchor cable, and managed to get it back
on the reel, and the LST was able to back off from
shore. It was another display of terrific seamanship.
By the time the bridge was unloaded, the Kadena
airstrip was secured, and there was very little
resistance for the first two days, which was exactly
opposite from the next six weeks. For the last time, we
11
flew off LST 776 to the Kadena airfield. Almost at the
same time, our newly-issued L-5 Stinsons arrived from
an aircraft carrier.
Two new L-5 Stinson planes were issued to us. They were
equipped to carry stretchers. They were put on the
carrier at Ford Island in Hawaii. Capt. Al Moen and Lt.
Jim Hamlen were assigned to fly them to Okinawa. In the
course of preparing them on the deck of the carrier one
of them was dropped, and damaged so badly that it was
necessary to push it overboard. When the carrier was
about 150 miles from Okinawa, they showed the two
pilots where Okinawa was on the map, gave them a
compass heading, and ordered them to take off.
Neither had ever been checked out in the heavier L-5.
The instruments were bare necessities. It was not known
if the crude compass could even be trusted. So they
flew for two hours over water before they even spotted
land. They still had about one-half hour’s supply of
fuel. They knew where the Jap airfields were, but they
were not sure who controlled them. All they had been
told was that the Kadena airfield had been captured by
the U.S.A. forces, even though they could see Jap
planes and what turned out to be dummy planes dispersed
around the field. Another compelling reason for landing
was their fuel was about gone. So they landed. This was
one week after the 77th began to capture the Kerama
Rettos.
After Okinawa, the 77th returned to Cebu Island in the
Philippines for an R&R and preparation for the next
operation, which was to be the BIG ONE! A meeting was
held in Manila for an evaluation of the LST 776 with
the Brodie Device. Would it be useful for the Kyushu
Operation, which had huge cliffs at the invasion site?
It would be a deadly reception. Certainly this was the
perfect solution for early observation. As a result,
four more LST’s with the Brodie Device were ordered to
12
be built. Fortunately, Hiroshima and Nagasaki solved
that problem.
General Bruce was correct when he said at the end of
the war, “The Piper Cub was a secret weapon of the
South Pacific War.”
###
13
JOHN’S STORY OF THE REPORTER
As recounted by James Edwards, LST-325 Executive Officer
I met John in Peoria, IL, when we were checking
locations to locate the LST 325. I ask John if he would
add a happening he related to us, he told me to pass it
on to any one interested. This is what I remembered:
John was approached by a reporter on one of the islands
in the Pacific during WWII, who asked John if he would
take him up in the Brodie-equipped cub airplane. John
got approval and they were loaded in the plane, with
the reporter in the rear seat. The LST sailors set up
for the plane to be launched on the Brodie gear. The
take-off was perfect; all was happy; they flew around
the islands and then flew back to land on the Brodie
gear. Well, on the first attempt to pick up the Brodie
ring, John missed and the reporter was not happy. On
the second try, he missed again, and the reporter
panicked and was screaming at John. On the third pass
he missed once again, and John was thinking the
reporter was going to do something physical. Well, on
the fourth pass John caught the Brodie; the only
problem was that on landing on the Brodie, John was
supposed to push the stick forward (on land, you pull
the stick back), but in all the excitement John pulled
the stick back, and that pointed the plane upresulting
in the propeller being knocked off by the cable. The
reporter lost it. I have no idea who the reporter was,
but I’ll bet he never got in a Brodie Cub again.
James Edwards,
LST-325 Executive Officer
14