Near Miss Over Wuchang
Staff Sergeant James H. Mills, photo taken sometime before his promotion to technical sergeant late in the war
James Henry Mills, called “Hank” by his friends, was one of many thousands of young Americans who left their homes and families and made the long, difficult journey to offer aid to the Chinese people in their fight against the relentless and brutal imperial Japanese, their common enemy.
Hank graduated from high school in 1941 and went to work at a grocery store as a meatcutter, although he had a natural aptitude for anything mechanical. He was eighteen years old when the Japanese attacked the United States Naval Base at Pearl Harbor, Territory of Hawaii, in December of that year. Fulfilling his patriotic duty, he volunteered for enlistment in the US Army Air Forces in September 1942 and began training in airplane mechanics.
After gaining experience as a crew chief, he was sent to the China-Burma-India theater, where he was attached to the 3rd Bomb Squadron, 1st Bomb Group, Chinese-American Composite Wing of the 14th Air Force, serving under Maj. Gen. Claire Lee Chennault of “Flying Tigers” fame. Hank’s duty was to teach the Chinese mechanics attached to his squadron to maintain and repair the American-supplied B-25 bombers, while other squadron members trained their Chinese counterparts in their own specialties. The squadron was tasked primarily to attack Japanese facilities and conduits used to store and transport supplies, and Hank was assigned duties as an aerial gunner on combat missions in addition to his other duties.
Squadron personnel moved to China in late August 1944 and engaged in operations out of Kweilin (now Guilin), Peishiyi (Baishiyi), Chihkiang (Zhijiang), and Liangshan (Liangping) during the following months, many of them in cooperation with the CACW’s other bomber and fighter squadrons. By mid-1945, the Japanese had lost their initial advantage and were withdrawing from South China to positions north of the Yellow River.
Hankow-Wuchang, on the Yangtze River in southern China, was an important transportation and distribution hub formerly used as headquarters of the Kuomintang government but now occupied by the Japanese. Hank flew several missions to “Wuhan,” as the cities were collectively called, as the war neared its end, but the raid on July 24, 1945, was among his most memorable. This was a joint mission with the 2nd Bomb Squadron. Aircrews of the two squadrons, each with four B-25s, were briefed to fly to the target together and then separate into two elements to make their bombing runs. Four 3rd Fighter Group P-51s flew escort, each carrying a 500-lb. M74 RDX bomb on one wing and a gas tank on the other. ("Research Department Explosive" (RDX) bombs had only recently come into common use. The formula for these highly-effective bombs contained cyclotrimethylenetrinitramine, a chemical compound even more powerful than TNT.) Two of the Mustangs were directed to fall into formation with each of the two echelons of bombers, with their pilots dropping their single bombs when they saw the bombs falling from the Mitchells.
The 3rd Squadron B-25s proceeded to Wuchang to destroy a spinning mill being used as a warehouse. Important installations in the vicinity were heavily defended and illuminated by huge searchlights. The 3rd Squadron’s commanding officer, Maj. Jack M. Hamilton, took the lead of that squadron’s bombers carrying 500-lb. GP M64 RDX. They circled to the west and north of Wuchang, coming in toward the south for the attack. The bombardiers released at 100-ft. intervals from 5,000 feet and scored hits diagonally from the northeast to the southwest corner of the target area, and black smoke and some white smoke immediately columned to 1,000 feet. Crewmen reported moderate and accurate enemy anti-aircraft fire estimated as forty to fifty black bursts, with several white bursts below the aircraft at 2,000 feet. Many bursts occurred within the formation, and one of the fighters was hit.
“I dreaded night bombing runs and those big spotlights the Japanese had,” Hank confided many years later. “They’d flash on us—lock onto our plane—and I could see ack-ack all around us,” he recalled. “The sky was full of those little black puffs, and they were trying to shoot us down. We couldn’t see how we’d get through it—but we did. Always.”
Circling north of Hankow, the 2nd Bomb Squadron aircraft passed beyond the twin cities to approach Wuchang from the west. As the Mitchells moved in to attack the Japanese Military Headquarters Building, they made several course changes to avoid ground fire. “Only one bomber in the formation of eight was hit and the hit did not penetrate the skin,” wrote the 2nd Squadron’s intelligence officer. “The fire was apparently from 75mm because it broke with black bursts, and it broke in groups from four to six. They were sufficiently large to be from a shell of that size.” Reported as intense and accurate, it was close enough to be heard and to “bounce” the airplanes. The 2nd Squadron mission report noted, “Crewmen did not have much to offer concerning the Hankow-Wuchang area. They all were watching the flak.”
Hank, who was also watching the flak, experienced a fortunate near miss. In his position as tail gunner, “right on the end of the plane,” he felt a sudden impact to the front of his lower leg from ground fire. “I had always heard that you don’t feel any pain when you first get shot, so I was afraid to even try to find out how bad it was.” Because of his kneeling position in the cramped compartment, it was impossible to look down at his leg to determine the extent of his injury. “When I got shot—I thought, here I am shot—shot in the leg. And when the plane pulled up, I decided, well, I’ve got to feel back there to know how bad it is. I ran my hand down my leg—felt around—pulled my hand back. There was no blood. I couldn’t understand that. I took my hand down there again—still no blood.” Later he checked the deck. “There that shell was, the spent bullet that shot me.” Although it had maintained sufficient momentum to penetrate the B-25’s fuselage, it only “gouged a place” in his boot but did not even break the skin. “I never did even report that. Nobody ever knew it.” He kept the spent bullet as a souvenir and as a reminder of his good fortune.
Read more of the story in The Spray and Pray Squadron: 3rd Bomb Squadron, 1st Bomb Group, Chinese-American Composite Wing in World War II.