The above picture is a photograph of a painting commissioned by Roger Erickson our radio operator. The painting is by the Korean artist Dong Sun Kim. Roger borrowed some of Jack Tunnell's combat photographs of B-29's in action, and the artist used these to create the painting. Jack used this photograph for his book, Memories of a Bald Eagle As Jack said, "Pretty sloppy formation flying"

This web site dedicated to all who served with me in the training camps, on Saipan, and most especially to my comrades in arms, the members of the crew of Mighty Fine.

I thank all who jogged my memory and wish to acknowledge in particular the following: Jack W. Tunnell for showing the way with his book, Memories of a Bald Eagle. I have excerpted both story and pictures from his book.

Roger Erickson for his Diary of our combat flights. I am thankful that he bucked standing orders that diaries were not to be kept. I have quoted from the diary.

(Paul at left)

Kevin Herbert for his book, Maximum Effort: the B-29's against Japan. Our fates were intertwined as he flew with our crew on one memorable occasion. I have also excerpted from his book, without permission, as I could not reach him.

Other reference materials were: Superfort Saga - 873 rd Squadron Historical Association. 498 th Bombardment Group book, authors unknown. My 201 file and miscellaneous military records. Various books too numerous to mention, dealing with B-29 operations.

The author, Paul Philip Schifferli, formerly of Buffalo, New York and resident of Reno, Ohio is solely responsible for the contents of the book. Completed on 3/1997. Revised 4/2000. Edited by B. Cass Clarke. (Paul's daughter)

This web site is in honor of Paul Schifferli who passed away in August of 2000 before I could get all of his information on the web. To Paul wherever you are, I hope you can see this somehow. To his family, this is my gift to you. God Bless you all! - Sallyann

The "War years" of my life began while I was attending the Citadel, The Military College of South Carolina. I was walking down King Street in downtown Charleston, SC on December 7, 1941. I remember someone running out of a store and shouting out the story. We all returned to the school and waited the word. No word came. I guess we expected to be marched off to fight. From then on we were encouraged to stay in school since we would be of more value to the country as trained officers than as raw recruits.

My mother died April 22, 1942. I came home on an emergency basis by airline several days earlier as arranged by my Great Aunt Mary Cass. I was aware my mother was ill, but had no idea as to the serious nature of the illness. She was highly drugged, and terminal when I arrived home. Her death and funeral are blocked out of my memory, a trait I have when death takes anyone I care for. After much soul searching I returned to the Citadel.

With the war going on, those of us who were interested in flying were becoming impatient and wanted to get on with our war. We went to Fort Moultre, South Carolina on 14 Dec. 1942 and enlisted in the Army Air Corps Reserve as Aviation Cadets.

On left, in Full Dress as worn at parades and dances. Center is the standard cadet blouse and on the right a standard army officers white dress uniform worn only while on leave, off campus.

At the Citadel in 1943 I was in Company R, Coast Artillery, a private 3rd class. The Unholy 8, as we were called, were all sophomore privates devoted to harassing the establishment and loafing at the Isle of Palms, then just an open beach with no hotels, and one restaurant named the Green Lantern. It featured a chicken dinner served family style, all you could eat for one dollar. One of the most enchanting features of the beach were the nurses from the Charleston Hospital. The Unholy 8 were Richard Blake, Sanford Brunswick, Donald Bunch, William Davis, Ernie Matson, David Pilson, Bill Tennant and me, all third class privates. Experiences and training while at the Citadel served me well when I went into the service.

At the Citadel we were informed that we would probably not be called to active duty as long as were attending a military school. That's when I and others decided to quit school at mid term. A letter from the Head of the Department of Civil Engineering states I stood 189 in a class of 428. Of the unholy eight, four enlisted in the Army Air Corps and all became commissioned officers. Those who remained in school were taken into the service shortly thereafter in the infantry as privates.

I returned home to my Grandmother Maude Cass and Aunt Gertrude at 311 Winslow Avenue in Buffalo, New York. I got a job driving a delivery pick-up truck while waiting to be called to active duty.

Lou Reif was the first of my friends to be called to active duty. I remember going with his parents to Fort Niagara to visit him. My close friend Bob Frasier was called to active duty on 27 March 1943. He also was inducted at Fort Niagara. I drove Bob, his mother and Dorothy Daum to see him off. This is when I first started to date Dorothy. After taking my best friend off to war, I proceed to date his girlfriend! BUT only for two days as I was called to active duty on 29 March 1943.

Dorothy was one of those girls who was everyone's girl friend. She dated any and all of the guys who were home on leave. At this time I met several of Dorothy's girlfriends, including Polly Branson, and Donna Harrison. It should be noted that Donna wouldn't give me the time of day. Donna and I never dated. Through this group I met others who became friends, in particular Robert Stahl who remained a close friend over the years. Bob has always been active in the military, and recently retired as a Brigadier General.

Those were the years of the Canadian beaches, The Park Lane, The Westbrook, J.B.Gladys, the Everglades, Long Beach and Sherkston.

When I reported for active duty we were informed that the program had changed, we were now Aviation Students and privates, not Aviation Cadets. We were sent to Keesler Field, Biloxi, Mississippi by a troop train, which picked up personnel all along the way. First around Lake Erie to Cleveland, then to Chicago and then south along the Mississippi River. We were allowed to get off at the various stops, but spent the entire time eating and sleeping on the train. Not in dining cars, but being served "Box Lunches" along the way. Some of the railroad cars on this train were so old they used potbelly coal stoves for heat. Assignment, Basic Military Training.

We finally arrived at Keesler Field. We were all still in civilian clothes and had to be processed to get uniforms, and draw cots and bedding. But, the first thing that happened when we arrived was to be marched to a movie theater to be given a lecture on snakes. In particular the Coral snake, which could only bite the fingers. We were informed that the only hope, which was slim, was to immediately cut off the finger! Later, when we were "policing" the camp and reaching under things to get candy wrappers or other trash we were MOST careful.

Most of the guys in my company had Reserve Officer Training Corps experience and already knew how to drill and the other basic military stuff. It was a real waste of time. A favorite saying about Biloxi, Mississippi was " If the Lord were looking for a place to give the world an enema, he would put the hose in at Biloxi." It was the only place I ever heard of where you could be marching in the rain and choking on the dust. The reduction in pay from $50 per month to $28 per month was bad enough, but the real blow to our egos was the elimination of cadet uniforms. Later in training, at basic and advanced, it was common for washed out cadets to be assigned to the flight line, to service the planes. They still had their Aviation Cadet uniforms, which were officer like in appearance, while we were wearing standard army private issue.

At Keesler field I met John Reif who had washed out early in the cadet program. John had bad eyes, and wanted to get into the Army Air Corps. He got the first pair of contact lens that I had ever seen, but could only wear then for about 4 hours. He passed the preliminary physical and eye exams without the lens being discovered, but the lens were detected at his next physical exam. He was sent to Keesler field to learn an enlisted skill, radio as I remember. He showed me the ropes, including how and where to goof off without being hassled by the Military Police. It made life much easier. John wound up in Burma along the Burma Road to China.

In May of 1943 I was sent to the 32nd College Training Detachment at Dickinson College, Carlisle, Pennsylvania. A fine college with mostly women students, but it was another military snafu. We were being sent to the college to take refresher courses in English, simple mathematics, first aid and other High School courses. As I noted earlier, most of my squadron mates had at least one year of college. It was a fight to stay awake during classes.

Most amusing was the reaction of the female students when we were on parade for short arm inspection. There we were, buck naked, wearing GI shoes and raincoats only, standing in single file outside the medical building, awaiting the examination of our private parts. Many smart remarks were passed.

We also liked to sing as we marched through town. Our choice of songs included several which "disturbed" the officials. "Hanna, my Delta Gamma" and "Roll me over in the clover" were two of the favorites.

The first airplane I flew. On the right a section of a photograph showing some of the Aviation Students at Dickinson College. That's me in the circle. I wonder how many of us survived the war.

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