Supplying the B-17 Flying Fortress squadrons in the South Pacific added a whole dimension of challenge
“Cactus Air Force” was the collective name for the Allied air units based on Guadalcanal from August to December 1942, during the early phase of the Guadalcanal Campaign, especially those flying from Henderson Field. The name “Cactus” was derived from the Allied code name for the island.
According to Eric Hammel and Thomas McKelvey Cleaver in their book The Cactus Air Force, the first unit that would become part of the future Cactus Air Force to arrive under Aircraft South Pacific (AirSoPac) was the Seventh Air Force’s 11th Heavy Bombardment Group, which flew Boeing B-17E Flying Fortress bombers. The group’s crews were trained and initially assigned to conduct search-and-reconnaissance flights and long-range bombing missions over the ocean. On June 20, 1942—the day Brigadier General Willis Hale took command of the Seventh Air Force—there were 63 modern, combat-ready B-17Es in service: 47 stationed on Oahu and 16 on Midway.
On July 4, 1942, Colonel LaVerne G. “Blondie” Saunders’ 11th Bomb Group was chosen to send an advance detachment of 107 carefully selected ground crew members to serve in Fiji and the New Hebrides. The unit’s flight echelon—35 B-17E bombers fitted with the new belly “ball” turret, which replaced the ineffective remote-control turret—was scheduled to arrive after the ground personnel were in place, with 27 B-17s to be stationed on New Caledonia and eight at Nandi on Viti Levu, Fiji’s main island and administrative center.
On July 21, the 11th Bomb Group’s 98th Heavy Bombardment Squadron reached the new Plaines des Gaiacs airfield in New Caledonia, soon followed by the 42nd Bomb Squadron. The group’s move into the South Pacific was completed when the 431st Bomb Squadron arrived in Fiji on July 24, and the 26th Bomb Squadron reached Plaines des Gaiacs on July 25.
Providing supplies for the B-17 squadrons in the South Pacific created a whole new set of difficulties. The Navy was responsible for delivering aviation gasoline and ammunition. The first delivery was 300,000 gallons of fuel, expected to last two weeks of flying with an additional 100 percent reserve for emergencies, but it was used up in only ten days. Aware that they were at the mercy of irregular shipping, the supply teams braced for a long delay before more fuel arrived. Instead, 3,000 drums turned up just in time on the cargo ship Nira Luckenbach, preventing the patrol schedule from being disrupted. Once the ship reached port, the fuel drums were thrown overboard, floated to shore in nets, then hand-rolled under the trees and spread out in small dumps of 20–30 drums each. After that, they were loaded onto trucks, rolled onto stands, and drained into the tank wagons that refueled the aircraft. There were no dedicated fuel trucks or trailers available.
Although refueling the bombers in this way was almost impossible in practical terms, it was somehow carried out. To prepare for the 26th Squadron’s August 7 search missions from Efate, everyone—including Blondie Saunders, the group commander, and Brigadier General William C. Rose, the Army commander on Efate and Espiritu Santo—joined in during a heavy rainstorm on August 6 to form a literal bucket brigade. Over 20 hours of exhausting work, they hand-filled the B-17s’ fuel tanks with 25,000 gallons of aviation gasoline.
Living and working conditions across the South Pacific’s forward positions were terrible—truly atrocious. Nine maintenance men accompanied the nine B-17s of the 26th Squadron and also served as the ground crew. The 26th was deeply indebted to the African-American enlisted men of the 24th Infantry Regiment, who helped service the aircraft and even fabricated spare parts in their machine shop. On Efate, the airmen took their meals with artillery units, while on Espiritu Santo, the entire 98th Squadron, including Colonel Saunders, slept under trees, beneath the wings of their bombers, or inside the Fortresses themselves. Beyond flying a full schedule of missions, the combat crews also shouldered much of the maintenance and servicing of their own aircraft.
The aircraft revetments had been carved out of the jungle and were just deep enough to keep a B-17’s nose from sticking out onto the runway. They were so tight that a crewman had to stand at each wingtip to guide the pilots onto the short taxiway, then remain on the wing to prevent the bomber from striking the trees lining the taxiway as it moved toward the runway. There were no runway lights; for pre-dawn takeoffs, bottles filled with oil and fitted with paper wicks were set along the strip so their faint flames would outline its edges, while jeeps parked with their headlights on marked the far end of the runway.
The machine shop aboard Admiral McCain’s flagship, Curtiss, was tasked with producing various replacement parts and add-ons for the bombers. However, complex equipment such as navigation instruments had to be sourced from outside the combat zone, often resulting in long delays and difficult scheduling. Major work, such as engine changes and other heavy maintenance, had to be done at Nandi—the rearmost base of the 11th Group—where the harbor and airfield were relatively modern and not bogged down by mud. Still, there was no way to manufacture new spare engines locally, and arranging for new engines to be shipped in from outside the South Pacific was extremely challenging. While improvisation helped for a time, it had limits: an increasing number of the 11th’s B-17s had to be grounded while awaiting vital parts, or stripped of components to keep other aircraft operational.
The Cactus Air Force is published by Osprey Publishing and is available to order here.
Photo by U.S. Air Force
