Relocating to Liangshan
One of several that my father, then Sgt. James H. (“Hank”) Mills, sent home to my mother, this was taken in late January 1945, as the 3rd Bomb Squadron was moving from Peishiyi to their new base at Liangshan. 1Lt. Robert J. Koss, one of the squadron’s navigators who had arrived only days before, sent the same photo home to his mother, along with a letter describing some of his adventures as the squadron made its change of address. Koss was one of a six-man aircrew who lost their lives on a mission four months later.
On January 21, 1945, the 3rd Bomb Squadron began its move from Peishiyi (Baishiyi) to Liangshan. The airfield (30⁰40'46"N, 107⁰47'10"E) was located about forty-five miles due west of Wanhsien (Wanzhou), the largest nearby town on the upper reaches of the Yangtze, and just north of a small mountain range. Squadron personnel who were already there after completing a mission against the Hankow storage area at the confluence of the Han and Yangtze rivers began to set up Operations, Intelligence, and Engineering. 1Lt. Paul L. Young and Sgt. William Meikle arrived by jeep to complete the set-up of Operations and Intelligence materiel on the following day.
Capt. Reuben Ragland and 1Lts. George P. Wood and Robert J. Koss, with details of enlisted men, left Peishiyi to transfer squadron equipment and supplies by truck, sampan, and river steamer. For my dad, then Sgt. James H. (“Hank”) Mills, the most memorable part of the trip was transporting maintenance equipment and supplies by river. "We were moving to a new base, and we carried equipment by sampan,” he recalled. "We rode a long way in that thing and then went and got on board a ship in the [Yangtze] river.” It was crowded with local people, many of them traveling with livestock. "They'd have chickens with a string fastened to them, three or four of them at a time, out there on the open deck of that steam ship.” Hank, who was always frugal, recalled traveling with Capt. Ragland, who often borrowed money from him. "I was his banker" was Hank's amused comment. All of them completed the transfer by truck, traversing the mountains via winding, switchback roads and arriving at the new base on the twenty-seventh.
Soon afterward, Lt. Koss described the move in a letter to his mother. “We took a two day trip on a river steamer and sampan and really got to see China. I can’t tell you where we went as yet but it was interesting,” he wrote in his travelogue. “You can not go a single block in China anywhere with out running in to a house or village or city. Evy [his personal contraction for every] little bit of land is cultivated even on the steepest mountain side, mostly rice paddies. We shot wild ducks on the way down. We are planning on going dove hunting here and if we get time we will go deer hunting too.”
Koss sent home a photo that he captioned, “Sampan shoots the rapids. I rode in one like this.” It was identical to one of several that Hank sent to his wife Nancy.
Special Orders No. 12 issued by the 1st Bombardment Group dated January 5, 1945, listed twenty-one American officers and forty-five enlisted men of the 3rd Bomb Group who were assigned to the new base. Movement by Chinese personnel was by separate orders.
Cpl. Ernest D. Johnson, whose 2nd Bomb Squadron had moved there a few months before the 3rd squadron’s arrival, wrote an account of his early impressions upon approaching Liangshan by air: “We turned west over a range of 7,000-foot-high mountains that were steep and barren except for a fringe of pine trees on their tops. The mountainsides were terraced with rice paddies high up, giving them a three-dimensional appearance. The flat Liangshan valley was covered with rice paddies, making it look like a large, shallow lake.” Liangshan village stood near the western end of the valley, its narrow dirt airstrip running east and west along the north edge of the village. Scattered throughout the valley among the rice paddies stood “clumps of gray-tiled or thatch-roofed peasant farm buildings.” The farms were accessible only by narrow, slippery foot paths on the mud dikes that separated each family’s farm plot. “On a few low hills were situated the more substantial dwellings of the landlords and warlords who controlled the area. These redoubts were surrounded by high brick or mud walls to protect them from peasant uprisings or attacks by bandits or rival warlords.”*
The village of Liangshan was typical of those in the interior of China that personnel assigned to the Chinese-American Composite Wing came to know so well. Maj. Don Hummel, CACW historian, had described it the previous summer as “a nine o'clock town.” He explained, “There were no street lights, no modern buildings, and after nine there was no life. It was friendly but primitive. The town consisted of a single twisting, narrow street with a few alley-like offshoots.” Unlike most Chinese towns, the houses were constructed not of clay but were largely modern tile structures. “Bombings in the early war years had left unreconstructed ravages among the buildings. Long war had pauperized the town. . . . It was strictly a Chinese town, full of little Chinese restaurants. Odors of food at all times filled the narrow, crooked street.”
Johnson’s vivid word pictures included his portrayal of people and places he encountered in China. Among them were rich details provided in his descriptions of village life that initially appeared strange and exotic to new arrivals but soon became commonplace to the men stationed nearby. He wrote that the village of Liangshan was surrounded by a high stone and dirt wall, broken down in several places. Tall ceremonial arches with heavy wooden ironbound gates where the roads entered the village on three sides were closed and locked at night to keep out bandits and thieves. “The walls were incapable of keeping out determined armies or bandits armed with cannon or explosives, but they did deter honest folk,” he wrote. One long main street that branched at the eastern end ran through the village itself. One road went up over the mountains via a switchback dirt road to the Yangtze River Canyon and the town of Wanhsien, and the other branch led to the airfield and the mountains beyond.
In town, most buildings were of unpainted wood or had a timber frame covered with bamboo matting and gray plaster, although a few government buildings and the local bank were constructed of “dun-colored brick.” A few buildings were thatched with straw, but most had gray-tile roofs. Small shops along the main street displayed their wares to attract customers. “They offered everything: apothecaries with dried herbs and glass jars of medicines, wine shops, candy stores featuring peanut candy and cookies, and shops selling locally made clothing, shoes, and stockings. Tantalizing aromas came from small, open-air cafes, their customers seated on wooden benches eating noodles, drinking tea and gossiping.”
The civilians wore faded blue cotton trousers and jackets or long blue robes. Middle-aged women hobbled along on tiny bound feet. “Their huge thighs, developed as a result of their bound feet, were apparently sexually attractive to Chinese men of former generations,” he surmised. Everywhere could be heard “the sounds of people chatting, babies crying, hawkers touting their wares, chickens and geese squawking, mourners wailing and the repeated explosion of fire crackers as funeral processions and wedding parties passed by.”*
On an inspection tour conducted the previous summer, then Col. Winslow C. Morse had described the nearby airfield as having an established grass landing strip with another under construction. There were only about six revetments large enough to accommodate B-25s, with a dozen or so smaller ones scattered around the desolate-looking field. Fifteen more were being built for P-40s. The only permanent structure, a wooden building, had a little glass enclosed control tower on top. A 100,000-gallon gasoline dump was less than half full. The radio equipment was "very primitive.” Hostels and mess halls were under construction but unfinished at that time. By the time the 3rd squadron arrived, "straw-covered" barracks had been completed. Their floors were packed dirt. They had no electricity, and candles, lamps, and flashlights were used for lighting, although the mess hall and airfield tower were powered by generators.
Despite these primitive conditions, it seemed that everyone was pleased with the facilities, which were newer and in better condition than those at Peishiyi. Living quarters were "quite adequate,” according to 1Lt. Willard G. Ilefeldt, 3rd Bomb Squadron flight leader and historical officer. Enlisted men occupied a brand-new building, and officers had separate barracks all to themselves. The orderly room, Operations, and Intelligence occupied one building. It was arranged with the orderly room at one end and Operations and Intelligence sharing a room at the other end. Between them and accessible to both was a spacious briefing room. There was also a large supply house and an equally large engineering shack. A dispensary provided general medical services, although serious cases were usually sent to the big American military hospital at Chengtu (Chengdu) or sometimes to Kunming.
The 1st Bomb Squadron’s Sgt. Kenneth W. (“Ken”) Daniels related that when he was there, everything at the Liangshan airfield was "muddy and dirty and there was no such thing as an operating shower.” Food served at the base was consistently "cabbage-soup the color of dishwater and the same leathery, cardboard tasting water buffalo. We suspected the buffalo weren't butchered until they had died of old age.” These animals were the primary beasts of burden used by Chinese farmers, who were hesitant to slaughter the buffalo until they had lived out the full extent of their usefulness. The condiments served alongside contained "rat droppings, bamboo splinters, or simply didn't exist."** When GIs sat down to eat, they first performed a careful examination of the food on their plates and sorted through it to remove rice hulls, stems, pebbles, insects, and worms before consuming whatever remained that was determined to be edible.
Sub-Lt. Tu Kai-mu, a 3rd Bomb Squadron pilot, later recalled that the most famous local product was its grapefruit. He related that the Americans and Chinese lived separately at Liangshan, as at other bases. “However, the Americans would come to the Chinese mess hall to have some Chinese food, and we would also sometimes go over to enjoy some American meals,” he revealed. Near the airbase was an allied forces recreation center improvised from a school. “It was basically a club for aircrewmen to relax and have fun. We could throw darts and drink there, but the spaces for officers and NCOs were separated. In addition to aircraft crewmembers from the 1st Group (only the bomber groups had NCO aircraft crewmembers), flight duty officers from the 3rd [Fighter] Group also used the club. Sometime the USO gave a military appreciation performance with American celebrities.” They occasionally showed some of the latest American movies, including ones that had not yet been shown in the US, he said.***
Liangshan’s geographical position as the eastern gateway to the Szechwan basin was of great significance, as it provided advantageous access to Hubei and Hunan provinces. C-47 transport units used its airfield to carry supplies, troops, and equipment within China. Situated about 350 miles west of Wuhan, it was further utilized for flying unarmed P-38 photo-reconnaissance planes to gather intelligence over Japanese-held territory, while the 426th Night Fighter Squadron flying P-61 interceptors defended against enemy aircraft attacking in the Chungking area. Hank remembered that the P-61s had twin stabilizers like the B-25s. Early one morning, as he was walking past a Black Widow that had returned during the night from a mission, he noticed bloody brain matter encrusted on the leading edge of the right stabilizer. The plane had flown so low that it collided with something living, either an enemy soldier or a large animal of some kind.
Weather at the new base was miserable, with dense clouds obscuring the tops of nearby hills and "raining intermittently between snow flurries,” according to the 3rd squadron history. The 2nd Bomb Squadron and most of the 1st Bomb Squadron were already at Liangshan. The base was so crowded that the 1st squadron's officers were billeted in the 2nd squadron’s infirmary, while enlisted men "sloshed around our tents, ankle-deep in mud and ice water.”
*Ernest Dale Johnson, A Long Journey Home: A Memoir of Life and War in Our Times (Caldwell, ID: Caston, 2017), e-book.
** Ken Daniels, China Bombers: The Chinese-American Composite Wing in World War II (North Branch, MN: Specialty Press, 1998), 32, 60.
***“An Interview with Maj. Gen. Du Kai-mu,” interview by Kuo Gwan-lin, translated by Kuo Gwan-lin and Wang Chien-chi, June 1, 2008, in The Immortal Flying Tigers: An Oral History of the Chinese-American Composite Wing (Taipei, Taiwan: Military History and Translation Office, Ministry of National Defense, ROC, 2009), 84.
Read more of this intriguing story in The Spray and Pray Squadron: 3rd Bomb Squadron, 1st Bomb Group, Chinese-American Composite Wing in World War II.