MY FAVORITE BOOKS

The title of this month’s blog might be confusing, so I’ll clarify.  When I mention “my favorite books” I do not mean favorites that I have read, though I’ve read several three times or more.  They include Edward P. Stafford’s The Big E; Michael Shaara’s The Killer Angels ; Stephen Coonts’ Flight of Intruder; and Stephen Hunter’s anthology Now Playing at the Valencia.  

When I say “my favorite books,” I mean my favorite books.  At present 46 volumes have my name on the cover, and I’ve contributed to a dozen others with anthologies, dedicated chapters, introductions and whatnot.

Ask authors with more than three books to name their favorite, and you’ll likely  get “The one I’m writing now.”  That’s understandable, as writers bring enthusiasm to each new project, especially if the money is good.

Sidebar: some critics dismiss an author’s new release by saying, “He’s writing for money now.”

Like that’s a bad thing?

You don’t hear people saying, “He’s flying for money now” or “She’s litigating for money now.”

Therefore: consult your dictionary and look up “professional”—as in “professional writer.”

And maybe get back to me.

So, back to My Favorite Books.

Everyone is especially fond of My First Book, if only for sentimental reasons.  Mine was The Dauntless Dive Bomber of World War II, published by Naval Institute Press in 1976, reprinted in 2006.  It grew out of my father’s restoration of the world’s only airworthy Douglas SBD at the time, early to mid 70s.  What an inspiration.  I was blessed to get about eight hours in the gunner’s seat, lending authenticity to the first operational history of the plane that won the Pacific War.

Dauntless Dive Bomber set the pattern for subsequent Naval Institute volumes including the Grumman F4F Wildcat and F6F Hellcat, plus the Vought F4U Corsair and F8U/F-8 Crusader.  Remarkably few authors recognized the gap in operational histories of tailhook aircraft.  All were well received, as readers liked the mixture of narrative emphasis with a leavening of technical development. 

Some books commend themselves because the subjects have been overlooked or warrant updating.  There had never been a single-volume history of Allied air operations over Japan until Whirlwind (Simon & Schuster, 2010).  The Wall Street Journal firewalled its review, sending the book to Amazon’s number 36 overall.  (Thank you, Dan Ford!)

Equally remarkably, apparently nobody had done more than photo coverage of the climax of World War II.  When the Shooting Stopped: August 1945 (Bloomsbury-Osprey, 2022) relied heavily on sources compiled in the previous four decades, as only two of the participants I cited were still living upon publication.

Clash of the Carriers (Caliber, 2005) probably was the first account of the Battle of the Philippine Sea in 21 years.  “The Marianas Turkey Shoot” of June 1944 remains a landmark in Pacific Theater operations, and I benefited from emerging scholarship plus contact with dozens of participants including a senior Japanese pilot.  

In 2012 when Simon & Schuster released Enterprise: America’s Fightingest Ship, there had been no in-depth account since Edward P. Stafford’s landmark 1962 The Big E.  I noted its influence on me at the beginning of this blog, and during my writing process, Commander Stafford agreed that the world needs a Big E book every 50 years.

Among nonfiction, Enterprise remains my sentimental favorite.  I had more emotional investment in the subject than with any other book because I knew so many of those men so well for so long.  Pacific War students will recognize the names of Dick Best, Swede Vejtasa, Robin Lindsey, Bill Martin, Jig Dog Ramage, and so many others.

Another odd gap in the literature: the 100th anniversary of the aircraft carrier.   Because British Royal Navy operations began in 1917, I anticipated a centennial volume, hoping that nobody else recognized the opportunity.  And apparently no one did: On Wave and Wing came from Regency History in 2017.

As any World War II historian will tell you, books published as recently as ten years ago could not be written today.  That’s because of attrition among the wartime generation.  My colleagues and I were fortunate to know dozens of veterans from the era—and don’t overlook the civilians—as invaluable sources.  Today, “War Two” historians increasingly  rely on oral histories and secondary sources.

Meanwhile, as the saying goes, Time marches on.  In 2014 Steve Coonts called, suggesting a book about Thanh Hoa Bridge, North Vietnam’s most notorious target.  Fortunately, I’d compiled a reference file in the 80s.  Five years later Da Capo released The Dragon’s Jaw, and none too soon.  Many contributors had waited 50 years to tell their stories, and we benefited from their eagerness.  Again, the story as we’ve told it probably could not be duplicated today.  

I have coauthored memoirs with some extraordinary aviators, starting with Major General Marion Carl, the gold standard of Marine Corps pilots.  Pushing the Envelope (1987) is a straight-forward account of Marion’s exceptional career in combat and flight test.  In the foreword I noted that he described milking cows and aerial combat in the same tone of voice.  

Marion was murdered by a teenaged career criminal in 1998.  The bastard was sentenced to death but the sentence was commuted by a judge who claimed the defendant had inadequate representation, reducing to life without parole.

Another memoir was an anthology with three retired navy captains.  World War II ace Richard “Zeke” Cormier; three-time astronaut Wally Schirra; and carrier skipper Phil Wood combined their overlapping careers in Wildcats to Tomcats.  It was published in 1995 after years of back-and-forthing though Wally wanted to call it A Tale of Three Hookers.

One of my three best friends was the late Commander John Nichols, USN.  He contributed to my F-8 Crusader book, and a few years later he proposed On Yankee Station: The Naval Air War in Vietnam (Naval Institute 1987).  Rather than a chronology, we took a thematic approach with John and others’ comments on carrier operations, strike warfare, the threats, and morale, among others.  Some Navy squadrons took it to Desert Storm as a reality check.

Subsequently we collaborated on a Mideast novel, Warriors (Bantam 1990).  It appeared just in time for Entertainment Tonight to criticize us for “war profiteering,” as if we anticipated Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait by a couple of years.

Anyway, we did profit significantly!

The SBD reappeared in Dauntless: A Novel of Midway and Guadalcanal Bantam 1992).  It’s my favorite full-length fiction, although some friends I respect as aviators and authors prefer the sequel, Hellcats: A Novel of the War in the Pacific.  Fighter pilots especially like the descriptions of aerial combat, down to such esoterica as proper leads at deflection angles.

Possibly the record for a marathon novel was Duel Over Douai, a Great War aero epic written by stages with two unindicted co-conspirators, Commanders R.R. “Boom” Powell and Jack Woodul.  We had fun inserting ourselves in the text, respectively a title Briton, a New Mexico mankiller, and a German Priceline.  It was something like 12 years en route, but the e-book result remains highly satisfying.

Among my other fiction is a trilogy proposed by military novelist Harold Coyle.  The theme is a private military contractor doing Deniable Work at home and abroad.  Pandora’s Legion, Prometheus’ Child, and Vulcan’s Fire were released in 2006-2007.  I enjoyed the varied cast of good guys-gals and some really-really bad guys, though some had mitigating circumstances.  But not everybody survived.

So there’s once-over not-so-easy.  Some of my favorites are out of print, and some publishers have failed.  But I remain grateful to all who contributed in whatever way: topic suggestions, memories, sources, proof-reading, editing, and marketing.

After all, the foregoing is part of “writing for money.”

RECALLING NEW GUINEA

 My colleague Lt. Col. Jay Stout, USMC (Ret) was a Hornet pilot in Desert Storm, and he’s become a significant historian with a dozen books spanning WW II up to the present.  His next volume, Savage Skies, Emerald Hell, details the New Guinea air campaign, scheduled for December release.

In comparing notes with Jay, I related some contacts I had over the decades.  Most are vignettes not relevant to broader coverage but I’m presenting them here so they’ll be preserved in cyberspace if nowhere else.

Charles Lindbergh: I knew some 475th Fighter Group pilots well, especially aces Joe Forster and Jack Purdy.  I met their group commander, Col. Charles MacDonald one time—very low key for the AAF’s third-ranked Pacific ace.  I didn't realize at the time that “Colonel Mac” had been at Pearl Harbor.  The pilots had tremendous respect for CAL but were none too enthused when he squeezed 10 hours out of a 38's fuel.  He's been credited with inventing the cruise-control technique he taught but IIRC he passed along info from Lockheed and Allison, which the AAF apparently neglected.  

==

Ralph Wandrey was a pleasant Midwesterner, inevitably cheerful.  I included him in a short anthology for Flight Journal.  This Pacific Wrecks installment mentions the episode I referenced.

https://pacificwrecks.com/people/veterans/wandrey/index.html

Ralph was assigned as keeper of the 9th Fighter Squadron mascot, a Muscovy Duck called Huckleberry (there was a popular tune).  Transiting to a new base, Ralph flew with Major Jerry Johnson in their new P-47s with Huckleberry wrapped in a sheet on the floor.  Unexpectedly the Forty-Niners found some targets and engaged.  Ralph said when he pushed over, Huckleberry raised to eye level and—distressed under unaccustomed negative G—let loose one loud QUACK!

Ralph said, "I was useless for the next few minutes.”

==

I got to know Col. Charles Sullivan when I was secretary of the American Fighter Aces Association.  (Postwar he changed to his grandfather's O'Sullivan.)  He featured in one of the classic escape and evasion stories from the Southwest Pacific Theater.  He jumped out of his 39th Squadron P-38 in '43 and was picked up by locals who treated him well.  Invited him to dine in the mens' long house, which he inferred was an honor.  Until he realized he was the main course.  Charlie shot his way clear with his .45, ran into the tall grass where he hid as the cannibals hunted for him and the widows wailed.  He said "By the time the sun rose, I had the fastest reload in the SW Pacific."  Later came across some Aussies.

==

Another 39er was an ace whom I saw frequently in the 80s.  His son was well known in the warbird community and recently died with a golden rep.  I won’t reveal his father’s full name because he has living relatives, but one day the P-38 pilot confided that he had a recurring nightmare.  Three Japanese Army Ki-43s caught him at low level and all he could do was try to keep his speed up, turning into each attack as possible.  It seemed futile—he was resigned to dying.  But finally an Oscar pilot made a mistake and my friend climbed away. Considering how many aces and other vets I knew pretty well, semi surprising that more didn't report similar reactions.

==

Colonel Neel Kearby pioneered the P-47 Thunderbolt in the Pacific.  One of my favorite aces and occasional pheasant hunting partner was Col. Mort Magoffin, CO of the 9th AF's 362nd FG.  He hung his Distinguished Service Cross beside his hole-in-one certificate.  He'd flown P-35s with Kearby at Selfridge Field and said nobody could beat him.  A tie was a win.  Leading the 348th Group, Kearby received a posthumous Medal of Honor.

==

A 348th ace (I recall two candidates) recounted a Hollywood visit to New Guinea.  John Wayne was popular, and bonded with Kearby in the CO's tent one night until JW passed out.  He awoke face-down on a cot in the HQ area, becoming aware of daylight and a crowd.  The GIs had never seen a naked movie star before…

==

Major Thomas McGuire was widely regarded as the best P-38 pilot this side of  Lockheed’s Tony Levier.  Fortunately, I interviewed Lt. Col. Joe Forster for my website.  A really good guy—low-key like so many whose tiger blood stirred when they strapped in.  He described the culture in the 475th Group, and departed the pattern in 2013.

https://btillman.com/interview-with-p-38-ace-joe-forster/

Everybody seemed to like Richard Bong, the down-home Wisconsin farm kid who remains our ace of aces.  But I wonder what he would've done in the postwar AAF.  A 24-year-old major with no leadership experience beyond flight commander.  A subject that remains unaddressed, apparently.  

Meandering:

I've oft noted that Fifth Air Force’s General George Kenney wasted (in the Vietnam sense) some fine leaders in pursuit of his goal: the top ace would be a SWP man.  The notion that Bong was "an instructor" in a combat zone was absurd: not much known but officially he was V FC's P-38 standardization officer while in fact he chose where to carve notches for the general.  I don't know about Lt. Col. Thomas Lynch (KIA with 20 victories) but apparently Kearby and McGuire were glad to comply even at the squadron and group level.  

A final note about New Guinea air ops.  In June 1942, Texas Congressman Lyndon B. Johnson had a direct commission as a lieutenant commander, touring the Pacific on a “fact finding mission.”   Actually the trip was a political stunt on behalf of FDR who intended to recall the “volunteers” in time for that fall’s election.

Johnson received a massively undeserved Silver Star for his airplane ride, but he wore the lapel pin the rest of his misbegotten life.

Here’s a detailed assessment of “The Mission” (title of Martin Caiden’s egregious 1964 book.)

https://medicinthegreentime.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/LBJ-SSM-CNN.pdf

Following publication of our Naval History expose’, my partner Henry Sakaida and I were approached by CNN, which produced a documentary in 2000.

If this month’s blog has a Message, it’s this:

No matter how small a veteran’s recollection may seem, write or record it for future reference.

TRUMP, JUMBOTRON AND DEUS EX MACHINA

 
Ancient Greek literature spawned the concept of Deus ex machina—“God as (or from) machine.”  Although actually it’s a Latin calque for the Greek apo mekhanes theos.

In whatever language, deus ex machina could represent an unexpected development or a man-made contrivance that influences the plot.  Certainly that applies to the JumboTron (by whatever name) that captured Donald Trump’s attention on a Saturday evening in Pennsylvania.

But first some background.

Certainly Aeschylus in the fifth century BC never envisioned JumboTron nor anything like it.  The name alone would perplex the sagest of Attica’s sages.  

Some theater historians note that ancient Greece applied the concept to stage settings such as cranes and elevators.  
However, the path to JumboTron was long and varied, evolving from stage plays, operas, and even burlesque shows before live performances were displaced by motion pictures.  An early example of deus ex machina.

Without quite realizing it, I dealt with deus ex machina in the 2019 book with friend and colleague Stephen Coonts.  In The Dragon’s Jaw North Vietnam’s notorious Thanh Hoa Bridge (aka Dragon's Jaw) was the inanimate character that drove the book.  Not quite in the godly category but Steve and I thought it relevant though we did not allude to it as such.

Meanwhile, the link between Greek stage antiquity and XXI century technology is too rich to pass up.

The concept of huge outdoor screens emerged in the1980s when Sony fielded the JumboTron while Mitsubishi provided Diamond Vision.  Sort of like Kleenex and Xerox, apparently Jumbotron has become generic for the device.

Which brings us to Butler, Pennsylvania earlier this month.

As we’ve seen dozens of times on the videos, Trump was leaning on the podium, looking to his right when he was shot.  The JumboTron (assuming that’s the version) does not show on most videos, but he was discussing the data displayed—the huge increase in illegal aliens allowed by the Biden administration.

Therefore:

Without knowing it, the intended victim was looking almost directly at his intended assassin when the .223 caliber round clipped Trump’s right ear.

A few days later, Trump’s former White House physician said that the bullet hit the top of the ear approximately one-quarter of an inch from the skull.  That’s about two-thirds the width of my pinkie fingernail.

If Donald Trump had turned his head perhaps 20 degrees left—certainly 30—he would have died instantly.  

Deus ex machina.  The JumboTron saved Trump’s life.

But it did not spare three Trump supporters: a 50-year-old fire fighter who was killed plus two seriously wounded but reportedly recovering.

Apart from the appalling extent of the systemic security failure—leading from years of toxic hate speech and a long Secret Service culture of irresponsible behavior—is a variety of technical aspects. Experienced shooters have commented widely online and in emails, noting there are still more questions than answers.

The 20 year-old killer used “an AR-15 type rifle” possibly owned by his parents.  But source of the weapon is secondary at present.  More relevant:

What type of sight?  Standard-issue “iron” sights or some type of optic?

At what distance was the rifle zeroed?  Most marksmen prefer rifles to shoot to point of aim at 100 or 200 yards.

How capable was the killer?  Former classmates said he tried out for the high school rifle team (how many of those remain now?) and was an abysmally bad shooter.  Also, reportedly he had personality issues on the range possibly due to bullying in school.  Subsequently the school district denied both assertions.

The shooter fired from a stable position about 135 yards from a stationary target.  If he intended a head shot, that was good marksmanship.  If he intended a body shot, his sights were set far too high.  Maybe a difference of 15 inches or so—a major-major discrepancy that would immediately show on paper in practice.

How big a discrepancy?

In rifle shooting the standard of comparison is minute of angle (MoA).  The size of a group of shots (at least three, usually five) measured at a specific distance.  At 100 yards a one-inch group equals 1.0 MoA.  At 135 yards a 15-inch vertical disparity equals 11 MoA.  That is huge.

With a rifle already zeroed (remembering that individuals’ eyes are different), any competent instructor could coach a newcomer onto a torso-sized target at 135 yards in a short firing range session.  The rifle could be braced on a sandbag or other rest, or on a bipod.  Then it’s a matter of fundamentals: rifle fit to the shoulder and cheek placement on the stock; sight alignment (with metal sights) and sight picture; breath control; trigger release; and follow-through.

Repeat as necessary.

The Butler incident already seems headed for the rarified atmosphere of the John F. Kennedy assassination 61 years before.  Various theories and contradictory statements emerged within days—some within hours—amid a lack of firm knowledge about the criminal and his rifle.  It’s another inanimate object driving the story, whether Lee Harvey Oswald’s imported Italian rifle or the Pennsylvanian’s borrowed AR-15.

But what we do know is that an invention called the JumboTron averted a shattering event in the contentious, continuing conflict of American politics.