Chennault’s Embarrassment
From files of the Republic of China, this photograph (now in the public domain) shows Chinese and American military personnel at the Base Operations building at Peishiyi. According to the accompanying notation, it was taken in 1944. The sign near the entrance states, “MILITARY COURTESY, DISCIPLINE AND DRESS ARE STRICTLY OBSERVED AT THIS BASE,” by order of the base commander in response to guidelines established by Maj. Gen. Albert C. Wedemeyer, in command of the China Theater.
The situation in China grew more troubling as 1945 began. As men of the 3rd Bomb Squadron languished at Peishiyi (Baishiyi), the situation was looking grim. The Japanese invaders were poised with heavy concentrations of troops and supplies in the Hengyang-Lingling-Leiyang triangle, from which three separate drives were possible: to occupy the Canton-Hankow Railroad corridor, to force the evacuation of 14th Air Force bases in southeast China, or to strike toward Chihkiang (Zhijiang) located northwest of Lingling. Two of these drives were launched before the end of January.
Japanese command resolved to seize the railroad lines between Hankow and Canton. This objective was culminated with "lightning speed,” thus achieving complete control of an inland supply route from bases in north China and the Yangtze basin to Canton and Hong Kong in the south, according to 1Lt. Robert N. Eisner, acting 1st Bomb Group historical officer. This occupation greatly increased the mobility of the Japanese in moving men and equipment, especially to sites along the China coast where they anticipated that Allied landings might occur.
Despite the usual bad weather and shortages of gasoline and bombs, planes of the 1st Bomb Group attacked whenever presented with the opportunity. Most of the missions undertaken during January were aimed at the destruction of trackage, bridges, yards, and trains. As a result of these concentrated strikes, the Japanese were unable to use the rail lines between Hengyang and Kweilin (Guilin) or the airfields of those cities. Small detachments from the 3rd and 4th Bomb Squadrons remained at Chihkiang and continued their night raids on motor convoys in the Hsiang River corridor when weather conditions permitted, thereby depriving enemy troops of essential supplies.
The only organized activity on the base at Peishiyi came in the form of occasional movies. Even Peishiyi village was declared off limits after cigarettes and other government-provided items―even blankets and uniforms―were found for sale in some of the shops. A package of PX cigarettes bought for less than a dollar could be sold to a shopkeeper for $15. Since the ration was four cartons per man per month, a GI could easily add $45 to $60 to his monthly pay. To discourage such black-market infractions, Chinese-American Composite Wing headquarters issued directives prohibiting the resale or barter of any items from the PX. GIs were reminded that such items were intended exclusively for the personal comfort and pleasure of US soldiers and for no other purpose.
The establishment of the new China Theater under Maj. Gen. Albert C. Wedemeyer the previous October had brought no immediate or revolutionary changes to the Chinese-American Composite Wing’s rank and file, although some administrative changes were instituted that had to do primarily with expenditures, reports, issuance of orders, and other procedural matters. A new directive insisted that medals should be awarded as "recognition of the performance of duty or an act of heroism above and beyond normal expectations" and not passed out as freely as in the past.
"The unit was not anything like you see on TV,” my dad, then Sgt. James H. (“Hank”) Mills reminisced. “There were just a few officers. I think there was [initially] a total of fifty-two people, enlisted and officers. And there was none of that jumping up and saying 'Sir' every time an officer came. We spoke with one another just like friends. They called me, 'Hey, Sarge.” I called them 'Lieutenant'—'Captain'—that's all. There was none of that military stuff like you see in the movies. It was a different outfit. We were all friends.” Although Chennault insisted on perfection in the air, he had never been a stickler about protocol or regulations in his command. Wedemeyer, who commanded his outfit “by the book” and required the same of those who served under him, intended to change all of that.
It was at about this time that the men stationed at Peishiyi noticed a new emphasis on matters that had become merely routine, beginning with directives on military discipline, military courtesy, and proper uniform and military appearance. The salute between enlisted men and officers, long fallen into disuse, was reinstated. The casual attitude toward dress and familiarity between officers and enlisted men began to disappear with the appearance of the snapped salute. The inevitable caste system of the army, which "had been worn rather smooth by long months of close in-living and by long daily hours of working together in crowded hostels and in an overcrowded headquarters,” began to reassert itself, according to Maj. Don Hummel, Wing intelligence officer as well as historical officer.
“Inevitably at a working forward base such as this, a comradery grows up, perhaps merely because the facilities for maintaining the separate life in proper style with proper military swank simply do not exist. Struggling through the same mud, eating the same food, and grubbing in the same dirt and grime, brings men together,” he explained. “However, the transition was affected, after several explanatory lectures by different officers, which it was noted, struck somewhat the apologetic ‘Mother-knows-best’ key note of: ‘You're not going to like this, but it is good for you.’”
As 1945 began, military discipline and courtesy came under increasingly-careful scrutiny, especially in Chungking (Chongqing). Maj. Gen. Claire L. Chennault issued a letter to all unit commanders of the 14th Air Force in which he referenced a recently-received radiogram from Maj. Gen. Wedemeyer: "The CO was very much displeased with lack of discipline and general sloppy appearance of all ranks and grades.” He urged all personnel under his command, both officers and enlisted men, to be properly dressed while outside their quarters in the prescribed uniform according to the type of duty to be performed or the social activity in which they were engaged and that they "avail themselves" of the facilities provided for shaving, although facial hair had previously been overlooked. "Poor discipline reflects directly on combat and operational efficiency." Chennault warned, "Such comments on the state of discipline of this command as quoted above are a source of embarrassment to me and I expect every commander to take immediate vigorous corrective action to prevent a recurrence of this criticism.”
Reports that ranged from failure to salute officers and incomplete or improper uniform to public intoxication and coercing local young women to accompany GIs to the photographer’s shop had been received at CACW headquarters. Col. T. Alan Bennett, the Wing’s acting CO, conveyed this directive in a letter that was distributed to all units under his command: "It is my desire that all American personnel of the Chinese American Composite Wing conduct themselves in a manner such that this organization will be an example to all others in the United States Armed Forces in China. We have a lot to be proud of, so let's show it in our dress and conduct.” Officers came under even greater criticism than enlisted men. They, too, had become accustomed to the relaxed, informal relationship brought about by sharing overcrowded facilities over a long period of time, and many did not even return a salute when it was occasionally delivered.
Maj. Hummel contended that these infractions were committed by personnel of non-CACW units on the base that "kept us from such meager metropolitan life as Peishiyi's one, narrow, stinking, crooked street provided. It had been little enough, now we had nothing.” Even Chungking, now "increasingly stiffly militaristic, overcrowded, almost void of any provisions for sleeping quarters for the visiting soldier, and with its better eating and drinking establishments being off limits, at least to non-officers, while theoretically still on our three-day-pass visiting list was actually more inconvenience and disappointment than the horrendous mountain ride warranted.”
Want to know more? Read it in The Spray and Pray Squadron: 3rd Bomb Squadron, 1st Bomb Group, Chinese-American Composite Wing in World War II.