Photos from the collection of Ken Butterfield. Narrative by Ken Butterfield.

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This is a record of my Service in the Military from 1942 thru 1945.

On May 6th 1942 I turned 18 years old and on May 25 I was sworn in to the Navy V-5 program, which was for flight training. I was then sent to Doane College for what was called Civilian Pilot Training or CPT. We flew the old Piper J-3 cub. After 8 hours of dual training I soloed. When we were out solo and practicing we were to fly in a certain area. One day after take-off and I had been out practicing for a while here came one of the instructors in one of the bi-planes and he signaled me to follow him. What happened was that a fog bank had moved in over the field and he was out rounding up all of the students and he took us over to a farmers hay field and landed until the fog lifted and then we flew back to the field. The first J-3 that we flew had no brakes, so the only way to stop was to pull back on the power and pray until it stopped. We later got one or two that had heel brakes. We also had ground school. Must have been there about 6 or 8 weeks, then went home until called to active duty.

Was called to active duty, I believe, in Sept or Oct. Went to St. Mary’s College in Oakland Calif. for pre-flight school. From there we went to Livermore Calif. for E-base. Flew the old Steerman. Also had a lot of ground school. Navigation, Aerodynamics, Mechanics, and others. I had to take the Aero, and Mech. test twice before I passed. They were in desperate need of (Pilots)?? From there we were sent to Corpus Christi Texas Naval Air Station. Was sent to Cabanis field for training in the Vulte Vibrator. Flew mostly formation flying and had the first night flying. Lost my first room mate there. He spun in or something on his first night flying lesson. Two of the instructors had a bet on one day to see who could take their students to the highest altitude with out oxygen, before someone stalled out. We won the bet by going up to 18,100 feet.

From Cabanis field we were sent to Beeville Texas for instrument flight training. Flew the SNJ. Never soloed, but always flew with and instructor. Instrument takeoffs and landing and all of the radio flight training. We were in the second class that was sent to Beeville as it was a new installation. One Sunday some of the students went hunting rattlesnakes. They had killed over 300 rattlesnakes while building the field. I was in my room and heard a lot of noise out side so went out to see what was going on. There was a damn fool holding a half dead rattlesnake. I immediately turned around and went back to my room and got up into the top bunk.

From Beeville we were sent back to Corpus Christi for advanced training. I was assigned to the PBY. which was the old Consolidated flying boat. Twin engines with a wing span of 105 feet with the wing floats retracted. In rough air you would look out and the wings would be waving at you. These planes were amphibious. You taxied down the ramp into the water and the sailors would come out and take off the wheels. When you came back in you taxied up to the ramp and they came out and put the wheels on and then you taxied up to the parking ramp. Any turning that you had to do was done with the engines and rudder. These planes had been completely stripped of everything back of the cockpit except for two bunks. When we went up for training there would be 3 or 4 students. Each student got 1 hour of flying, so the rest of the time you laid in the bunk or looked out the blister. Now lets us imagine that you had eaten something the night before and your intestinal track was somewhat upset. On a flight of 4 or 5 hours there needed to be some relief of the bad food. Since there was not a head on the plane the only thing you had for a container was a brown paper grocery bag. It was a given that if you messed up a plane, you cleaned it up. Therefore you would do your best not to mess-up. It was quite a maneuver to hold on the a brace on the bulk head because of rough air and hold on to the sack at the same time so you made sure to hit the sack. This was a self taught maneuver. It was not in the manual. In certain areas when practicing you had right hand turns and in others left hand turns. One day I turned the wrong way. This instructor asked if I wanted a down, or 10-2-and 4. Which was 10 demerits, 2 weeks restriction to the base and 4 hours of marching back and forth with a rifle. I took the 10-2-4. Once in a while when doing stall landings if you stalled out a little to high you hit with enough force to pop a rivet or two out of the hull.

Upon graduation you could ask for service in the Marine Corps or stay in the Navy. I ask for service in the Marine Corps because I did not like the idea of trying to find a little aircraft carrier in a great big ocean. A immovable land base air strip was more to my liking.

After being commissioned a second Lt. in August of 1943 I was sent to Hollywood Florida to a Navigation school. We were housed in the Hollywood Hotel. Most of the instructors were ex Pan Am people as they had the most experience in over water navigation. We had dead reckoning, celestial navigation, and how to smash a land crab. There were a lot of them there. A Navy pilot by the name of Bill Morgan was there at the same time. He had married an old girl friend of mine, Bette Wallis, she and I were in the same grade in Pawnee High School. At Hollywood we had a bed check every once in a while and regardless if you were married or not you were supposed to be in your bunk. One night Bill asked if I would sleep in his bunk so he could go sleep with my old girl friend, his wife. Nobody to sleep in my bunk but we did not get checked that night.

After some leave time we had to report to the Marine Corps base at Cherry Point , North Carolina. I was sent to Bogue Field and to VMSB 334. There I was checked out in the SBD dive bomber. Our Commanding Officer was Maj. Bruce Prosser. He had been at Guadalcanal in the first fighting there. He flew 29 missions in 28 days and received the Navy Cross. While at Bogue field I lost my second room mate. He was from the other squadron and I did not know him hardly at all. He was a first Lt. He flew to Philadelphia and spun in the landing pattern. We were at Bogue only a short time and they moved us to Atlantic Field, at Atlantic NC. We were at Atlantic Field from Nov. of 1943 to June or July of 1944. We did nothing but train dive bombing. For a brief time, 2 or 3 weeks we were sent to Boca Cheeka Florida, on to the Islands between Miami and Key West for anti submarine training. They towed a target the length of a sub in the ocean and we had to practice dropping depth charges on it. While we were there a B-17 came in with engine trouble and it was still there when we left. Our tour there was cut short because the scuttlebutt was that we were to be sent to England to bomb the German V-2 rocket sites. I was loading officer and we had 5 R3D's to load with equipment and men, all at the same time. About 2 or 3 days after we got back to Atlantic Field and Navy Lt. came up and I was called into the CO's office and was asked about some items that had disappeared from Boca Cheeka. Seven radio head sets and a small generator from the B-17 and several Navy bicycles. Of course I knew nothing about how or why they disappeared and all they could find at Atlantic was the small generator, because it was still setting on top of one of the packing boxes.

While at Atlantic several things happened that were of interest at the time. One was when Jocko Conlin pulled out of a dive to low one day on a practice bombing at the target on Harkers Island. He hit the water flat like a rock skipping on the water. He bounced up in the air, the propeller came off of the airplane and he landed on the beach. He did not have his shoulder straps tight and hit his head on the gun sight. His gunner did not get a scratch.

We had a pilot whose last name was Heath. We called him Sheriff. He had been an enlisted man in the Marine Corps for seven years before he volunteered for flight school. He knew the Marine Corps manual almost by heart. His gunner got back from leave late one time and the Sheriff thru him in the brig for 5 days. When you went into the brig they shaved your head. After he got out of the brig, we had night flying one night and there was no moon. It was dark. When the Sheriff took off he thought he was joining up on the plane in front of him but he was trying to join up on a star. He found himself inverted. When he got the plane rolled out the level flight he hit the ground,. flat as a pancake. The plane broke in-two about a foot behind the gunners cockpit. The sheriff had not a scratch. His gunner had a scratch on his head and probably would not have had that if he hadn't had his head shaved.

For a while at Atlantic my roommate was a Capt. McCaferty. He had been at Guadalcanal after the main fighting had gotten over. He was married and his wife was in Morehead City, so he stayed at the field only when he had the duty. He was a good friend and a good pilot. He was my third roommate killed. One day we had a 1000# live bomb drop. They would drop a dye marker in the water and we had to try and put our bomb in the middle of that. McCaferty was leading a division of 6 planes. For some reason or other he did not pull out of his dive and went straight in. The pilots behind him thought the splash was his bomb that did not explode and dropped their bombs on or near that spot.

Once in a while some of the pilots and enlisted men would go over to the high school at Atlantic and play softball with the kids. One day they asked the kids what they ate. One of them said," well the other day we almost had beef. He said some one bimbed(bombed) one of our old cows. Our practice bombs were 3# lead bombs with a smoke shell that went off when it hit ground, so you tell how close or how far you hit or missed the target. Someone had one left over one day and put the bomb right in the middle of the old cow. She had been dead to long before they found her to be able to butcher her for food. The kids said they ate fish, and when they did not eat fish the ate shrimp and crab. There are also quite a few wild horses on the outer banks and still are. We use to buzz them every once in a while to keep them in good running shape.

We left Atlantic in July or August of 1944 and went to Newport Arkansas for about 10 days. They then broke-up the squadron and sent us to Miramar Calif for deployment over seas. One of the best duties I had in the Marine Corps was a platoon leader of the color guard that raised the colors every morning. There was something about marching with the Marine band playing that was great. When it came time to go over seas they loaded us up in trucks with our gear and took us to the dock in San Diego. We then went aboard a troop transport. When we were lined up to board the ship some Red Cross ladies came by with coffee and cookies. Then at the bottom to the gang plank there was a lady with the collection plate out. They apparently wanted our last dollar before we got our A-- shot off.

The officers had quarters above deck, so we had good ventilation. We ate two meals a day, morning and evening. The enlisted men had bunks 5 or 6 high down in the holds. It was hot and smelly. The enlisted men had to eat standing up with their trays on a 2 by 8 on posts belly high. They moved down the line as they ate.

One of the officers had bought a puppy, great dane, its feet were bigger than its head. He built a cage inside of a parachute bay and took the dog aboard ship. The captain of the ship did not find out about it until we were out to sea. They let him keep the dog but he had to clean up after the dog all of the time. When he took it out on deck he had his pooper scooper and sack.

We went to Hawaii first but could not get off of the ship because we were there only a few hours over night. Then on to Majuro in the Marshall Islands. When we got to Majuro it was after dark and we had to climb down the cargo net to get into a landing craft to go ashore. The next morning I and David Charno were assigned to VMSB 231. At that time they still had the SBD dive bomber. Dave and I had a green 10 by10 tent with a wooden floor in it. Our cots had only a 2 inch pad to sleep on. The squadron insignia for 231 was the Ace of Spades, which was the oldest insignia in the Marine Corps. It dates back to just after WW1. Major Ablet was the CO when I got there. Maj. Elmer Glidden had been the CO. from 1943 until just before I got to Majuro. Maj. Glidden was in the Marine Corps when WW2 started. He was in the battle of Midway and received the Navy Cross there. He was then sent to Guadalcanal in the first fighting and received the Navy Cross there. He and Maj. Prosser were good friends. I met Maj. Glidden at our first 231 reunion in Kansas City in the late 80's.

In the Marshall Islands several atolls were held by the Japanese. Kwajalein and Eniwetok were taken by fighting. Majuro had been abandoned by the Japs before the Americans got there. So there had been very little if any shelling or bombing of the Atoll. All of the trees were still standing and it looked from a distance like a south sea pleasure Islands. Looks can be deceiving.

My first strike with the SBD was on a gun emplacement on Millie atoll. Shortly after arriving on Majuro I was asked to volunteer for a pig catching mission. When the Americans came to Majuro they moved most of the Marshallese off of Majuro and moved them to Arno. When they left they missed two pigs that were on and island between Delap and Laura. Delap was where the airstrip was and Laura was the biggest island in the Atoll several miles from Delap. Three of us went down and caught the pigs. Brought them back to the officers area and someone had built a pen for them. We fed them garbage from the mess hall for sometime. The first one was killed and butchered and the second was fed a little longer to get him fatter. When it was time to eat him, we took a 50 cal. machine gun out of one of the revetments and built a barbecue pit. One day we had a strike on Wotje and they killed the pig and the Doctor or the squadron oversaw the cooking of the pig all day. When we got back that afternoon and got done with the briefing , the pig was done. We got some bread from the mess hall and would slice off a piece of pig with our hunting knife and put it between the bread and wash it down with a beer or two That beat the hell out of Spam.

When the U.S. moved into the Marshall Islands they bypassed 4 atolls. Wotje, Maloelap, Jaluit and Millie. There were two squadrons of SBD's on Majuro and our job was to search these atolls twice a day and do bombing and strafing just to keep the Japs from getting over confident. There was also a minor repair base for submarines on Majuro and we had to fly cover for them when they got repaired and went out to shake down. There were two different search patrols. One over Wotje and Maloelap and the other over Jaluit and Millie. Twice a day at the same time everyday. The Japs knew we were coming everyday. Leftty Zant and I got fired on one day over Wotje. All you could see was the muzzle flash because they would not use tracer bullets to give away the gun position. One day I was flying wing on Capt. ??. and we caught a Jap out in the open on Maloelap. He was skinny and had on only his white diaper. We made a strafing run on him and he ran like hell. If you had a Corsair with 6 50 cal. machine guns shooting at you how long would your diaper stay white. It is not easy to hit one person running like hell and you are doing 200 to 250 miles an hour.

We flew the SBD for the first month that I was there and then they gave us the F4U Corsair. We had them for several months and then they took those away from us and gave us the SB2C. The SB2C was a damn abortion in my opinion. It flew like a 18 wheel truck. You could not dive it with any accuracy, you could only glide bomb with it.

One day when flying the Corsair I had submarine cover duty. I had to eat an early lunch so ate in the kitchen. It was a friday and we had salmon loaf. You still ate fish on friday in those days. I took off and was covering the sub going up and down. A subs worst fear is another sub. After about 2 and a half hours of flying my stomach began to churn and I knew what was going to happen. I called the control tower for an emergency landing and they asked if it was a problem with my plane. I said no it was me. I came straight in, landed and know where the head was along side of the runway, I pulled up, cut the switch and ran right off of the wing to the head. I made it. Damn the salmon loaf. One other time I got food poisoning real bad and landed in the hospital. They took me off of all food, only had water. After a day and a half my first meal was chili. The doctor came in that afternoon and asked if I had ate anything and what was it. When I told him he said get the hell out of here and I had to hitch hike back to the compound.

When we had the Corsair we had to get in a couple of hours of instrument flying every month. They kept a SBD for this. Put a hood in the front cockpit. And another pilot flew in the rear cockpit as a safety pilot. One day a couple of new pilots took off on a instrument flight. They thought they need to give the Marshallese on Arno a thrill and were buzzing them. They got to low and hit a tree, crashed into a hole in the ocean side of Arno and killed them both. The Marshallese pulled them out of the plane, built a pine coffin for both. The navy went over with a landing craft and picked them up and brought them back to Majuro. It was after dark that night when they got back to our area. I was officer of the day that night and had to meet the boat and then identify the bodies. There were two or three other officers there at the time. We took of the lid of the coffins and I asked if anyone could identify the bodies. No one could so the only way was to get finger prints. I asked for volunteers but nobody spoke up, so it was up to me. They had been dead for several hours and it was very difficult to separate their fingers enough to get a good print. They were very stiff. The next morning we loaded them on a landing craft and took them over to the island that was used as a cemetery. You did not want to stand on the down wind side of the coffins it you could help it.

The food was OK by me but there was a lot of peanut butter consumed. We had dried eggs, dried potatoes, spam, canned fish, chipped beef on toast,( There was another name for this dish.). There was a SeaBee detachment on Majuro and they had the best food. One of the SeaBee cooks was partial to whiskey and would fix a steak supper for four for a fifth of whiskey. I got in on two of these meals. The officers could get all of the beer they wanted and the enlisted men got two bottles a day. We could set-up a squadron officers club and order whiskey and rum from the states. You had to get two bottles of rum for each bottle of whiskey. I still do not like rum. At the main officers club on the atoll you could get a mixed drink for 15 cents. At that time the base pay for a second Lt. was $150 a month with $75 for flight pay. As I recall a fifth of whiskey cost us about $2.

Also while I was there they sent a native onto Jaluit and told the natives there that on a certain day and time off of a certain island the US would send a LST into pick up any who wanted to get off of Jaluit. We flew cover for this operation just to see to it that the Japs did not interfere. Also one day a pilot from the other squadron got shot down over Jaluit and had to ditch in the ocean. The tide and wind was taking him into the main island. Our squadron flew cover for the rescue Dumbo to pick him up. I did not get in on the operation, but did participate in the party the pilot threw for our squadron and the Dumbo crew.

After we were given the SB2C on a strike to Wotje one day I was flying number 2 on the wing of the CO. in the lead division. We had radio silence. The number 2 man on a section led by the ex-officer sat down on the CO. It knocked out his radio and bent the propeller. The CO's propeller cut into the other planes engine and the pilot had to bail out. My responsibility was to the CO. so I went ahead buzzed the field land radioed what happened, and flew with the CO back to the base. The other pilot and his gunner bailed out and were picked up by air sea rescue. (Dumbo).

Also on a strike to Maloelap one day I got shot up just as I pulled out from a strafing run. The bullet holes went from one wing tip to the other. From the looks of the holes I figured that they had to hit the tires or some of the lines that went thru the wheel wells. I radioed my problem and waited until all other planes had landed, so if I crashed it would not tie up the runway. I flew low and slow over the control tower to see if they could detect any damage. They could not so I landed very carefully. When I landed the plane sunk down on the right side so I figured a tie had been hit. I applied left brake to counter the flat tire but nothing happened. Another bullet had cut the hydraulic line to the left brake. With the right tire flat I was heading for the bomb dump so when the plane slowed down enough I hit the right brake to ground loop. It worked and I stopped on the side of the runway. The first man up on my wing was the medic and asked if I was all-right, then if I wanted a shot of brandy. I was all right and did not need any brandy.

Somewhere around the first of July 1944 they asked for volunteers to go to Okinawa. I volunteered along with 5 or 6 other pilots. I wanted to get out of flying the SB2C and knew if I got to Okinawa I would be back in the Corsair. Norm Schakter was the adjutant of the squadron at the time, so he knew when we would be leaving. As we loaded our gear and ourselves on the truck to go to the field to fly to Kwajalein, Norm was there. He collected gin rummy winnings from 5 of us. I owed him $150. After we got to Kwaj. they told me I would not be sent up because I had already been overseas 10 months. I was detached back to Majuro and flew a couple of photo recon flights and then back to Kwaj and flew CAP.

Got shipped back to the States a couple of weeks before the war was over. We flew on a R4D from Kwaj to Hawaii and were put on a small carrier to go from Hawaii to San Diego. We were told we could go ashore but if we wanted to get back to the states the ship sailed at midnight. We crashed an officers party on Ford Island and got back to the ship before it sailed. Over consumption of alcoholic beverage made for a good hangover the next morning. When I woke up the ship was out to sea in the ground swells, going up and down. I spent most of the morning hanging over the side of the ship.

Got back to San Diego and was sent to Miramar. Was there for about two weeks before new orders for 30 day leave and then to Cherry Point NC. When at Miramar we could get 3 or 4 day passes. Dusty Foust had a girl friend in Hollywood so we went to Hollywood on each pass. The day the war was over we had been in a barber shop on Hollywood Blvd. getting a hair cut. We walked out of the shop and stood by the door for a few minutes. The barber came out and said to come back in as there was going to be an announcement on the radio. That was the end of the war. We walked back out of the shop and the street began to fill up with people. The one thing I remember most was when we were walking down the street and elderly lady came down the sidewalk waving a small US flag. She stopped by us and said "Isn't it wonderful". We got back to Miramar a day or two later, and I got orders for the 30 day leave and then to Cherry Point. I got a ticket on the Sante Fe Chief to go to Kansas City. Had a lot of money so I got a compartment. Gave the porter $20 and asked him to take care of me all the way. He smiled and said, " Sure enough boss". Got to Kansas City and got a ticket on the Burlington to Table Rock. Called the folks and told them when I was supposed to get into Table Rock. Ran into Jiggs Dusenbery on the train and he was going home also on leave.

Got to Cherry Point and was assigned to a squadron while awaiting to be discharged. Bob Egan who had been in 334 was back also and he was going to marry a girl from Morehead City. We would go to Morehead for liberty and go to the Blue Ribbon Club. You took your own bottle and bought mixes and the club. Also bought food. You could get a meat platter of fried shrimp for a dollar. There was a big shrimp fleet out of Morehead City. One night I asked my date , a women marine to bring a date for Phil Dyer. That was when I met Dorothy. After that night Dorothy and I dated until I got discharged. She went home on leave while we were dating and brought back a Cherry cake that I was led to believe that she had made. I found out 5 years later that her mother made it. At the time I thought anybody that could cook that good was someone to hold on to. I got relieved from active duty just before thanksgiving of 1945. Went up to Washington D.C. and had Thanksgiving with Senator Kenneth Wherry and his family. They were neighbors of ours in Pawnee and he and my father were good friends. Went home and went to work in the hatchery for my father. He paid me $45 dollars a week. Went back to Pennsylvania in August 1946 and Dorothy and I were married.

There are probably a few things in this report that I did not remember or figured were to insignificant to include.

One more thing. We dropped napalm on a garden on Maloelap that the Japs had planted. When I got to Majuro they said there were about 5000 Japs and their slaves on Millie. When the war was over they took off about 2500. Disease and starvation took the rest.

While on Majuro the Marshallese on Arno wanted to show their appreciation to the Americans for what they had done for them. They put on a show for us singing their native songs and native dance. It was a great show. But it was very obvious that the Japs had taken all of the eligible women with them when they left Majuro because at the show there were only very young and very old women. The Japs denied for 50 years that they had any slaves during the war. They had Koreans and native islanders as slaves.

I joined the Marine reserves in Lincoln, Nebr. in 1951. Col Bruce Prosser was the CO. We flew the F6F and the F8F. The F8F mostly. In the summer of l953 we went to El Toro Air Base in Santa Ana Calif. for our two week cruise. I was supposed to check out in the F9F Jet. Had all of the ground school and cockpit check out done. Got up from the mess hall table the night before and twisted my knee out of shape. The Marines promoted me to Major and said good-by. Got out of the reserves in the fall of 1953.