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