Long Time Resident Shares His World War II Experiences With the ROAHS

The last River Oaks Area Historical Society meeting prior to the holidays featured a speaker who grew up on the North Side and has been a resident of the North Beverly Hills area just outside River Oaks, for many years. Program Chairman Mearl Ellis introduced Garl Ray, known as “Bud” all of his life, and he gave us some very interesting and personal insights into his World War II experiences. Bud is a brother to W.C. “Dub” Ray and the two live within two blocks of each other and are also great neighbors within a couple of blocks of our home here on the hill. The brothers worked in their father’s grocery store on the North Side till the threat of World War II came along and they were advised to join the National Guard and serve a year, which at that time, would fulfill their military duty. They joined with five other close friends.

When Pearl Harbor was bombed and war was declared, the one-year rule changed and they were mobilized into federal service with the U.S. Army 36th Division and sent to Ft. Lewis in Tacoma, Washington to help guard the West Coast. Bud laughed when he told us they took telephone poles, pointed them toward the ocean and camouflaged them so they would look like cannons. He said telephone poles were guarding us in that rather frightening time during the early part of the war when Japanese submarines were in the Pacific Ocean off of our coast. He was moved to Santa Rosa, California where he joined the U.S. Air Cadets while Dub stayed with his Unit and was sent to the East Coast and consequently many other areas of the United States. Bud went into flight training at the West Coast Training Center where he learned to fly AT-17s and AT-9s. He was the first in his class to solo there.

The war progressed to a point where our military was taking an offensive position instead of defensive, especially in Africa and in the South Pacific. He was sent to B-17 school and when he graduated from there, he was sent to Kansas to B-29 School, which was a top secret program for this new and larger, long-range bomber that could overcome the tremendous barriers of distance. His Unit began to be dispersed to go overseas. Bud said they traveled by ship and plane to befuddle the enemy, but they were the ones who were befuddled because they didn’t know where they were going. 

He left the states with his winter uniform on and stepped out of his plane at a base in India where the temperatures were scorching. They were shown the mud huts with thatched roofs where they would be living and shortly they heard a radio playing and the voice of Tokyo Rose welcoming their unit to India and with a touch of sarcasm, adding “We’ll be over to see you soon.” Bud said they set their bags down and began digging trenches just in case she was correct in her threat. He said they only had to use those trenches once.

The military was having trouble getting gasoline and bombs to their four bases in Southwest China during this period of the war.

Every time the Burma road would be rebuilt, the Japanese would re-bomb it. Bud said that one of their airplanes was converted into a tanker to transport gasoline over the treacherous Himalayan Mountains, known as “The Hump”. His group would fly that route back and forth until they could accumulate enough gas to run a mission. They were able to raid some islands of Japan and Formosa (now Taiwan) and they operated the B­29s for a full year on such missions, something he said the States heard little about because the European war was really heating up.

On one of the flights where his crew was assigned to carry gasoline into a 20th Bomber Command Base in China, they unloaded the gas at the base and took off early the next morning for their home base in India. Bud said he couldn’t pinpoint why, but he had an uneasy feeling that morning. He called the crew together to see it they had chutes and escape equipment in case they had to bail out. A little later, engine number three caught on fire and they tried to put it out but could not, all the time losing altitude. A runaway prop further complicated the situation, causing the plane to vibrate and shake, so they made the decision to bail out. Bud was the next-to-last to jump followed by the skipper who was thought to be the last one on board. However, one man, who had been seen with his chute on and adjusted, never left the plane, possibly due to the lurching of the plane which could have knocked him unconscious.   

One member of the crew tripped over the rear-door exit as he jumped and was caught by the powerful slipstream and flattened against the fuselage while the speeding plane lost  altitude. Frantically kicking his legs, pushing with his hands and with a desperate kick, he tore himself loose, pulled his rip cord and floated easily down. Little did they know it would be 29 days till they saw real civilization again.

Landing in different terrain, some covered with poppy fields and other areas with steep cliffs, slopes and thick  undergrowth, the crew was separated for some time, but finally were able to  get back together days later in a joyous reunion. To celebrate, they had  and old-fashioned Texas community sing-a-long led by our own Bud Ray who was a lieutenant and the co-pilot of the plane.

They had landed in a primitive part of Southwest China known as Lolo-land, a group the Chinese referred to as “barbarians”. The Lolo people were smaller and darker than the usual Chinese and had strong Mongoloid features. Surrounded by Lolos armed with rifles and pistols, they were robbed of any valuables they could not conceal. When one airman balked at giving up his gun, a Lolo split his belt with one swish of his knife, his pistol fell to the ground and the Lolo swooped it up. One Lolo took a fancy to a corporal’s cameo ring, pulled out a vicious looking knife, grabbed the man’s finger and raised the knife as if to cut off his finger. The man quickly pulled the ring off and gave it to the native. No one was reluctant to give up their valuables after that. However, Bud saved his watch, ring and an AAF wrist chain by slipping them in his watch pocket, a place the natives did not know to look.

None of the natives could speak English, so all communication was done by pantomime. They were allowed to go to the wreckage of their plane and to bury their friend. The pilot was taken to the Lolo Chief’s house and was given food which he accepted and an opium pipe to smoke, which he politely refused. As it turned out, the tribe smoked opium made from the poppies and many tribesmen seemed only to eat, sleep and otherwise stay in a drug induced state. Their diet for most of the days in that village, consisted of rice and sow belly with an occasional gruel made of corn­meal paste and water. What the intentions of the Chief were, remained a mystery as he gave no explanation for holding the flyers. The coldness and poor diet soon began to show their effects on the men and they became ill and suffered constantly with dysentery. The fleas, mosquitoes and other bugs infested their quarters continually and they wore the same dirty clothes day and night. Under such circumstances, many men would crack, but amazingly, their spirits remained high. They sang a lot and took pride in teaching one friendly Lolo an American song.

On the 11th day after the crash, the. chief let them leave and with parting gestures, presented them with three pans of opium to help pay their way as they traveled. The men thought that in the United States, the opium would be worth a fortune, but in that part of China, it only bought lodging and bad food. One day, an American plane passed overhead and the men tried very hard to signal it but were unsuccessful. They ate and slept in native houses as they traveled, paying for their stay with the opium. During one stay, goat’s meat and potatoes were added to the usual rice and sow belly which was a real treat for the Americans. At one point, they were accosted by six maveric Chinese and came close to being killed. 

And another time as they followed a river, shots were fired at them from the opposite bank. The men dropped flat on the ground and waited for dark when they crawled at least 400 yards on their stomachs.

They were on the home-stretch now as they came closer to the friendly, but ancient Chinese city of Leipo. Their arrival was no secret as a runner had carried the news ahead and they were met by the mayor of Leipo and a young schoolteacher who acted as interpreter. They eagerly listened to the men’s story and treated them royally with hot baths, clean clothes while their clothes were being washed, American cigarettes and a great meal of eggs, chicken, peaches and hot tea. The mayor had a fine German-made camera and he took pictures of the airmen and presented them with several of the snapshots for keepsakes. He dispatched an armed guard to go with them as they headed to Pingshan.

On the 25th day, they were welcomed to the home of a retired Chinese major and were served eggs, chicken, potatoes, roll, Chinese pastry and tea, a special treat to these airmen. As they continued their route, the next day found them in Pingshan where a wealthy, retired Chinese general provided the men with food and quarters for the night. They proceeded by boat to I-Pin where the most welcome sight awaited them. It was a C-46 transport plane which picked up the 10 men after 29 days in Lolo-land. It flew them back to a 20th bomber command hospital in Western China where they spent hours talking to their friends and taking pictures before being admitted to the hospital for medical attention. Their next activity was to wire home letting their families know they were no longer “Missing in Flight” as the War Department had reported. It was estimated they had walked close to 250 miles during the journey. Bud flew another 23 missions after his harrowing experiences in Lolo-land.

Their journey which occurred in mid 1944, was chronicled in the Skyways Magazine in December of that same year. I gained some of my information from reading the magazine which Bud loaned to me and also by visiting with him, as our ROAHS meeting time did not allow us time to hear his full story. There were a number of pictures on display that night for us to see. Bud received his discharge in 1945, and came home where he worked 12 years as a pilot and an accountant for James H. Snowden and Company, and retired after 22 years as a purchasing agent for Gearhart Industries. Bud’s wife, Jean, ac­companied him the night of the ROAHS meeting and we enjoyed having both of them. ROAHS President Mary Earwood dismissed us with a wish for a great holiday season.