Everyone on our crew forgot food, the heat and that there had ever been a war, in their determination to locate the trouble. We traveled up and down the length of Guam locating factory reps from every company in the states that had anything to do with a B-29 engine. We got them from the beaches, from tents and from card games then drove them down to North Field and our parking stand to see if they had any ideas about what could be wrong. The engine was started and stopped time after time, yet nothing would correct the noticeable roughness in the lean position.

Along toward six o'clock with the sun sinking lower, and with every known possibility exhausted, the picture was anything but rosy. One by one the "experts" went home shaking their heads. Our crew was totally dejected. I-tried to keep a positive attitude but everyone knew I didn't have much to go on. General Twining had made repeated trips out to the B-29 but even he had given it up as a hopeless case in view of the time element. However, just before he left for the last time, and it was apparent we had had some kind of internal failure, he gave us permission to install a replacement engine if and when we could find one on Guam or elsewhere.

It was extremely doubtful that an engine change could be done before the deadline which was the briefing time of 8:30 A. M. Tuesday morning. But he had wanted the fuel injection engines to make the flight and it was a consoling gesture to a discouraged crew because both he and our crew knew the cold facts on engine changes gained from experience during combat flying operations. Engine changes on a B-29 took an expert crew of mechanics working at break-neck speed about twenty-four hours.

Other factors were also against us. Guam had no fuel injection engines at either North Field or Northwest Field. The only field that had them was our own North Field, Tinian, because they had initially been used by the 509th Composite Group for the atomic bomb missions. And an expert engine change crew was a thing of the past unless you could put together individual mechanics and make up a team. Then with the war over it was asking a lot of the mechanics to work that long and hard on something they were not personally involved in and had an excellent chance to fail anyway. Here it was 6:30 Sunday evening and the briefing time was less than thirty-seven hours away.

We had a lot of pride in the old 313th Wing. It was that good feeling of having the men and materials to do a job and do it well. And why not- Our field was the largest of all the B-29 bases in the Mariannas and in the world at that time. Our Wing had flown precision bombing raids, fire raids and every other kind of raid flown by the 20th Air Force against Japan. In addition, we had done all the mine laying of Japanese harbors and the Inland Sea. A unit attached to our Wing had dropped the atom bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Not that the war was won as a result because the atomic bombs came along only to clinch a victory that had already been won by everyone who ever went to the Pacific including the courageous Seabees who made our airfields possible. The atomic bombs gave the Japanese a reason to surrender in a war they had already lost. Nonetheless the 313th Wing still had a lot of pride.

We also liked to think that we had a reputation for getting things done--a reputation that couldn't be smirched just because the combat flying was over. When it came to arranging this round-the-world flight on short notice in the first place, we had taken it as a breeze. Now this breeze was blowing the wrong way but we just couldn't let the Wing down and we didn't intend to. It was going to be a gamble at best but we had to try. With the crew assembled in front the "sick" B-29 and all of the unpleasant facts out in the open, every man volunteered his utmost to get the job done.

The feeling of despair began to turn into ideas. People began talking. We all had friends back on Tinian who would help us to the limit. Many knew top-notch mechanics waiting for their turn to go home. We had our own Crew Chief and two Flight Engineers and I knew the staff maintenance officers at our Wing Headquarters. With the time element staring us in the face things had to get organized and quickly. A couple of us ran into a nearby quonset hut and picked up a telephone. We placed a call to "Chicago" our code name for the 313th Wing on Tinian. This was done by relaying the phone through a radio then into another phone. After a few minutes I was able to locate Colonel Castex Conner, Deputy Chief of Staff for Maintenance. I explained our predicament to him and that the good name of the 313th was at stake. He soon sized up the situation and told us what we already knew--that it would be touch and go-but that he was behind us all the way and that was all we needed. It was now going to be done and the 313th would be represented in the first formation of B-29's around-the-world and the first ever to land in Europe.

The rest of the crew was still standing around the airplane when they saw the two of us come dashing out of the Quonset on a dead run. Wasting no time they clambered aboard and were starting the engines before I reached my cockpit seat. I don't know which runway we used at North Field that evening but we found one and soon were in the air winging our way back to Tinian where we had told everyone good-bye only the day before. Just for fun we checked the number four engine again and still the vibration only now we were no longer discouraged. We had too much work to do.

We approached North Field, Tinian from the southwest making what we jokingly called an "airline approach" and selected Runway A for the landing because it was nearest the repair shops where they kept the spare fuel injection engines.

In a few minutes we pulled onto the maintenance apron and there stood Colonel Conner surrounded by a handful of mechanics not quite knowing what they were getting into. As-our props slowly came to a stop, the engine stands were pulled into place, the number four cowl came off and wrenches began to turn on the huge, four-bladed prop. The stage was being set for the most dramatic engine change I had ever witnessed.

So furiously were the mechanics working that a few operations had to be delayed until the engine cooled off a little to keep them from burning their hands. Although I had known before what the ground crews had accomplished in the 20th Air Force without the satisfaction of going over a target, this exhibition was so inspiring I wished the people back home could have seen them. Then they would have known why we won the Pacific War.

We knew that one engine change crew could not keep up the fast pace for twenty-four hours so plans were made to organize a relief crew to take over after twelve hours. During the entire ordeal there would never be a time when work was not being performed. Some members of our aircrew who could not be used on the actual engine change were sent back to their former quarters to sleep especially the Navigators and Radio Operators whose job would be long and tiresome on the flight. The rest of us did what we could in chasing down odds tools and equipment needed by the engine change crew or in locating different specialists who could assist us. When there was an actual lull in our own activities, we would curl up on the hard coral and attempt to grab a few minutes sleep ourselves.

Luckily it was a perfect night with a bright moon and no rain because the drama was not being staged in a neatly lit maintenance hangar but right out under the stars with a battery of photo-flood lights and the quiet Pacific Ocean only a few hundred yards away. The only sounds to be heard were the exhausts of the portable generators and the mumbled remarks of the mechanics which, by the nature of their vain, let you know that it was not easy.

Along about 5:00 A. M. Monday morning, the old engine was removed and the bright, new one swung into place by means of a hoist on small wheels. Then began the intricate job of fastening all of the hundreds of connections to mate the engine with the B-29. Members of the first crew didn't go home. They stayed on to help. Mechanics shifted back and forth but the work never stopped.

As the day wore on, the heat became stifling as it reflected off the white coral apron. Shirts came off and men sweated but the new engine was going to be ready by nightfall. Casual visitors would drop by to see what the excitement was all about but nobody had time to talk. The ground around the B-29 was littered with tools, the old engine, oily rags, clothes and people. Apparently someone knew what was what but I began to wonder how such a mess of junk could turn into an airplane engine.

At 7:30 Monday evening the last fastener had been tightened on the cowl and there before the assembled gathering was a brand new number four fuel injection engine ready for its first test. We all just sort of stood around and looked at it for a while fully expecting it to drop off onto the ground. We soon came back to reality, though, and knew that the 313th had come through. Now it was up to us as a crew to go on and complete the mission.

According to regulations the engine had to be run fifteen minutes on the ground then an hour in the air with a landing back on the same field. After that the engine change mechanics who had done the work had to check the oil sump for metal fillings. If the engine passed all the tests which included running smoothly in the air, it was then ready to go and we weren't taking any chances by cutting corners this late in the game. With the flight we were about to attempt that new engine had to be perfect.

As the Flight Engineers climbed aboard to start it up everyone had their fingers crossed. Soon huge clouds of blue smoke poured out of the exhaust and the engine was going. It ran okay on the ground for the fifteen minutes which gave us time to take our-seats and we taxied on out for the hour's test flight. It was now about 8:30 P. M. and dark again with the same moon coming up and another enchanting Pacific night. However, none of us cared about the night or the scenery--we wanted that engine to be all right.

Back in the air again with all eyes glued to the engine instruments, we cruised about Tinian for an hour. So far everything had checked perfectly. Then back in for a landing on Runway A and to the maintenance apron where our loyal mechanics were waiting to check the oil sump. It showed no metal filings which together with the engine's. smooth operation meant that the engine change had been successful.

It was now almost 11:00 P. M. and we were due at the briefing, and the deadline, on Guam at 8:30 the next morning. We tried to thank everyone who did the actual work and get going. I know the thanks fell short of what we all thought but there was nothing much to say. As we taxied out the grins on the faces of the mechanics let us know how they felt about the "miracle" they had just performed.

Taking off from Runway A at North Field, Tinian shortly after 11:00 P. M., we were on the ground at Guam about midnight. North Field was practically closed down for the night but we managed to find a truck with an accommodating driver who drove us to our tents and a few hours of welcomed sleep on a canvas cot which seemed like a luxury as compared to the coral apron the night before.

No one connected with the project knew we were back on Guam with a new number four engine until 8:30 the next morning when we walked into the briefing room. It had been a foregone conclusion that our B-29 would carry the baggage back by way of Hawaii but they had underestimated the 313th Wing. Naturally, we were met by many wide-eyed stares including one by General Twining. When I reported to him that we were ready to go he couldn't quite believe it. He kept his promise, however, and our plane was included in the three to take off that afternoon at 4:00 P. M. He even apologized for having already loaded his flying gear in one of the other B-29's so we were to miss the pleasure of his company on the upcoming flight.