B-17 CC Additional Material by Robert M Stitt

Flt Lt Archibald ‘Arch’
Dunne flew 75 hours over
48 missions on Lockheed
Hudsons while based at Port
Moresby with the Special
Transport Flight. He is
pictured at Darwin on June
3, 1942, seven months before
the rescue mission to Wau.
(Australian War Museum
neg. 012436)
rageously insisted on staying at his post until he had released the bombs. The
navigator, Peter Hudec, then pulled Cole away from the nose and attempted to
block the catwalk so Cole could be shielded from the roaring wind.
After completing the run, the crew of 41-9234 found themselves separated
from Thompson’s Fortress and any mutual protection it could provide. Without
fighter escort they had to fight their way out of the target area on their
own, surrounded by a swarm of Japanese fighters and with two failed engines.
Hoggan relates their retreat from Lae. “We counted up to 20 fighters but just had
to sit there, shouting directions at the gunners while lumbering along in our unescorted
bomber. Lloyd DuMond in the upper turret was hit by a shell on the back
of his head and stopped shooting. Dau shouted, ‘What’s wrong?’ DuMond said,
‘I can’t see… I’m blind… I’ve been scalped!’ Dau shot back, ‘Well put it back on
and start shooting. If you can’t see, I’ll tell you where to point the guns!’”
The running battle with the Japanese fighters continued for several minutes
as 41-9234 headed south towards the Bulolo Valley and the Australian outpost of Wau. Dau’s gunners
later claimed four enemy aircraft destroyed though they received credit for only three, one by waist
gunner Henry Blasco and two by tail gunner Henry Bowen. “But it was the flak over Lae that brought
us down,” recalls Hoggan, “not the attacking fighters.”
Refuge at Wau
Looking out to his right at the failed number 3 and 4 engines, Hoggan asked Dau if he should feather
the propellers. “Ray said, ‘If the fighter pilots see the props feathered they’ll know our critical condition’.
So we let them windmill. The fighters stayed with us but eventually dropped back out of shooting
range.” Dau then attempted to feather the number 3 and 4 propellers but was only successful with the
inboard engine. “With each ridge the aircraft got closer to the ground. We could maintain altitude but
not climb. Ray was as cool as one could get… he made light of any crisis and was a superb leader. He
asked for everything to be thrown out but was still not satisfied as the aircraft would not climb on two
engines. He sent me back to check and I found everything including guns and ammunition boxes, had
been jettisoned. I had just got back to the cockpit and sat down and was looking down at my lap strap
to tighten the buckle when Ray said, ‘We’re going in!’”
The stricken bomber came to a stop in less than 200 feet (60 m) as it ploughed up a 20° slope, slewing
90° to the right in the process. The sideways skid caused the fuselage to fracture at the front and
rear spar attachment frames, the nose bending to the right while the rear fuselage was torn open on the
port side at the front end of the radio compartment and wrenched though 45°, also to the right. Ripped
from its mounting, the unoccupied ball turret rolled down the side of the ridge.
Without shoulder harnesses, pilots Dau and Hoggan had their upper bodies snapped forward on
impact, striking their heads on the instrument panel shroud – in the nose, Albert Cole was thrown
forward against the bombardier’s chair and somehow threw himself out of a front window. The rest of
the crew had moved to their crash positions in the radio compartment but Robert Albright was unable
to secure himself prior to touchdown and was badly hurt. Rear gunner Henry Bowen had been gravely
injured by the attacking Japanese fighters.
Australian soldiers based at Wau witnessed the crash-landing and, with the help of local villagers
placed five of the nine aircrew, including Cole, Albright, Blasco and Bowen, on stretchers and headed
back down the trail to their camp – sadly, Henry Bowen died during the trek.
Mercy Flight
Word had already been sent to Port Moresby that the crew needed immediate medical attention but
little could be done until someone could get through by air. Port Moresby was only 250 miles (400 km)
away but a rescue operation across the Owen Stanley Range to Wau in the prevailing poor weather was
by no means a simple task. Fortunately, the right person to lead such an mission was currently based at
Port Moresby, Australian pilot Flt Lt Lieutenant Archibald ‘Arch’ Dunne.
Dunne had flown commercially in New Guinea prior to joining the RAAF at the start of the war
and was familiar with the demanding flying conditions around Wau. At the time of the crash-landing
he was flying Lockheed Hudsons with the Special Transport Flight, a detachment of No. 1 Operational
Training Unit tasked with flying resupply missions from Port Moresby to Allied troop outposts in New
Guinea. “When we received word that a B-17 had crashed, the number of casualties was not known. I was
asked to try and get in there on January 9 because I knew my way around the area and it was almost impossible
to take a group of aircraft in at that time of day. However, I couldn’t find any sort of break as the whole
area was ‘socked in’, normal for New Guinea in the late afternoon. So early the next morning, January 10,
I led a group of Hudsons to Wau in perfectly clear conditions.”
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