While making the 71 day trip from Long Beach, CA to Calcutta, India back
in 1943 and early 1944, our group of unassigned Air Corps personnel was
accompanied
aboard the Liberty ship by 2 automotive engineers from General Motors.
Their assignment was to establish an engine rebuilding plant in
Calcutta, on a contract with the US Military to overhaul engines from
all types of vehicles. It seemed to me an impossible task for 2
foreigners, neither conversant in the Hindu language, but yet they
achieved it successfully in less than a year. Not only did they have to
find a suitable location, but had to hire interpreters, and through
them, train unskilled locals to run the machines and do the precision
work necessary in rebuilding many different kinds of automotive engines.
Sometime in December, 1944 I got some leave (a few days) and flew from
Kunming, China to Calcutta. I got a ride, based on my knowledge of the
Douglas C-47 aircraft, with a member of the Chinese National Airways
Corporation (CNAC), which used many of that type aircraft. There were
just 2 of us on board--the pilot and I.
An interesting sideline---as we were flying the "Hump" (the Himalayan
Mountains) the pilot kept adjusting the fuel mixture controls toward the
"lean" side, while watching the cylinder head temperature guages to make
sure he didn't overheat the engines. He kept the temperatures just below
the Red Line; my curiosity forced me to ask why he was doing this.
Many of these pilots were with General Chennault and the American
Volunteer Group (AVG) before it was disbanded.
CNAC paid them $600 per month, but in response to my question he told me
they were also paid $1 per gallon of gasoline left in the tanks at the
end of such trips.
The Air Corps estimated that it cost $50 for each gallon of gasoline
they used in the war in China, so his answer made sense.
But back to the story about the GM engineers. When we had parted in
Calcutta less than eleven months before,
they said they would welcome a return visit should we ever make it back
there.
I didn't hesitate to call them after checking in to the hotel, and it
turned out to be a wonderful and educational experience.
They were both proud and happy to show me their plant, and I was
absolutely amazed at the scope and efficiency of the operation. To watch
these native Indians
produce such quality work after such a relatively short training period,
and with the handicap of the language barrier, was
unbelievable.
After touring the plant, they showed me the city of Calcutta. I don't
believe I could have had a more complete picture of that impoverished
city of over a million souls than what they showed me that afternoon.
I had heard of the "black hole of Calcutta", but had no idea of its
meaning. I found out that it was probably the largest and worst leper
colony in all the world. The sights of the most grotesque forms of
leprosy were forever etched into my memory, and until that day had no
idea of such human suffering. Their wailing will always linger in my
memory.
That evening, on my own, I went to see the opulent side of Calcutta. In
the heart of the city, I visited one of the most beautiful hotels I had
ever seen, with a huge ballroom with marble pillars on forty foot
centers, and 30 or 40 feet high. While enjoying a drink I watched the
dancers whirling about the floor, oblivious to the war. And there I saw
General Claire Chennault dancing with his beautiful, young Chinese wife.
Some 54 years later she would be in attendance at a convention in San
Antonio, at a time of my first reunion there with former squadron
members.
General Motors certainly had two very special employees in these
gentlemen.
My only regret is that I didn't keep in touch with them, but when most
of us returned from the war we were too busy rebuilding our lives to
think much about the past. But when I finally got reconnected with my
China buddies after almost 54 years, all these memories began to
surface. This is just one of many.
Copyright 2000 H. Thomas Flanagan