Memories of 96-year-old former WWII bomber pilot
Kenneth Saff was remembering a dark moment in his service as a World War II Army Air Forces light bomber pilot in the South Pacific. He flew 64 combat missions from November 1944 to June 1945 in the New Guinea and Philippines liberation campaigns, but this is one that stuck with him.
Wickliff Waltmire, the guy with whom he had shared a tent and a close friend from the time they were training in the States, had just been shot down and died during a mission.
According to the book
“Rampage of the Roarin’
20s,” an illustrated history of Saff’s 312th Bombardment Group during World
War II, Waltmire was shot down over the Philippines by Japanese gunners who camouflaged their anti-aircraft and machine gun positions with haystacks.
Saff said the A-20s they flew rarely survived a crash unless they ditched at sea.
“When an A-20 goes down, that’s it,” he said. “All you see is a big glob of fire and smoke.”
Waltmire’s death left Saff in a dark mood that he said lasted for a couple of days and that he likened to a coma.
“I suppose that happened to a lot of people,” he said.
Then it was time for another mission. Coma over. “I got over that,” he concluded. “The job had to be done, of course.”
I learned about former Army Air Forces 1st Lt. Kenneth Saff, now 96 and living in a Hanover Township, Northampton County, retirement community, through an email from someone who knows him. Just like that, I had a perfect subject for Veterans Day — and a wonderful visit with a man who has preserved all the paperwork from his service, books about his planes and his squadron and even his uniform and Roarin’ 20s bomber jacket, which still fits.
When I asked about his age, Saff dropped to the floor to demonstrate one of the exercises — laid out in an ancient Funk & Wagnalls dictionary — that he does almost every day. This guy defines spry.
Saff was the ninth of 11 children growing up on a farm in Kane, McKean County. At age 18, he joined his brother working on Piper aircraft in Lock Haven — he got 30 cents an hour as a welder — and the next year, he started flying, a dream since he was a child. He had his first lesson June 6, 1941, and got his private license 14 months later.
When the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, Saff tried to enlist but he flunked because of his eyesight. Determined, he went to a doctor, who gave him exercises to strengthen his sight and advised him to improve his diet, including eating more carrots. He returned July 17, 1942 — and passed.
He was commissioned Dec. 5, 1943, at age 21 as a second lieutenant and ended up in Charlotte, N.C., for training as a pilot on A-20 bombers, which carried only one crewman, a tail gunner. He showed me a color photo taken of an A-20’s complex instrument panel.
“This was my office,” he said.
He produced a photo of A-20s flying behind a lead aircraft in formation, explaining that this was the way they carried out their bombing missions with six to nine planes.
“The only thing I saw was the guy next to me,” he said.
Just before they reached the target, they would get a signal to tighten the formation, and then he would watch for the plane in front of him to open its bomb bay doors, following suit.
“When his bombs dropped, we dropped ours,” he said.
His plane had a .60-caliber machine gun on its nose, although he went on only two strafing missions.
According to his service records, Saff arrived in New Guinea in September 1944 and was assigned to the 388th Bomb Squadron, 312th Bomber Group on Nov. 29, 1944. He arrived in the Philippines in January 1945 as part of the liberating Allied invasion force. Saff was promoted to first lieutenant in March and was appointed flight leader in May.
The “Rampage of the Roarin’ 20s” book, written by Lawrence J. Hickey and Michael H. Levy, includes several mentions and photos of Saff.
One caption, for a shot of him with two other men in front of a plane, explains, “There were occasions when the threat to an aircrew came from their own ordnance. 2/Lt. Kenneth H. Saff of the 388th Squadron recalled his first experience with napalm bombs. The briefing officer did not tell the pilots to fly at least 100 feet above the ground before releasing their ordnance. The bombs had instant fusing, and the explosions damaged several planes.”
I was surprised to see one of my stories among his collection of memorabilia. It was a piece about a teen’s efforts to return a collection of medals to the family of another Army Air Forces flier, 1st Lt. Rodney D. Beckel, who was killed during a raid on Clark Field in Luzon. Saff told me he flew in reserve as part of that attack on the airfield.
Saff hand-marked his copy of the “Roarin’ 20s,” which documents the bomber group’s missions in a series of maps, to indicate which ones he flew on, even numbering them. Other handwritten notes are scattered throughout the book.
One letter in his file, dated June 3, 1945, recommends he be relieved of duty and sent home for rest and recuperation after near-continuous action. It lays out his service time and explains all the medals and ribbons he was awarded and authorized to wear, along with his Excellent efficiency rating.
“Lt. Saff since joining our organization in September 1944 has flown 63 A-20 combat missions and 1 B-25 combat mission over targets in New Guinea, Southern Philippines, Luzon and Formosa,” explained the letter from his commanding officer, W.R. Brodine.
Saff was on a ship on his way home when the U.S. dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, triggering the Japanese surrender.
Brodine had recommended that once Saff recovered, he be assigned to training in jet propulsion flight aircraft, which would have put him in the company of test pilots like Chuck Yeager.
“He is a well-qualified pilot for such an assignment,” Brodine wrote.
Saff’s recuperation included a trip home to Pennsylvania and a bout with malaria, then further R&R in San Antonio. Late in 1945, when his counselor gave him the choice of accepting an assignment to test jets at Edwards Air Force Base, with a promotion to captain, or head home for civilian life, he chose home.
“I didn’t want anything to do with flying anymore,” he said, although he took to the air again many years later as a member of the Army National Guard.
He met his future wife, Jean, who was from Hellertown, while he was studying dairy farming at Penn State. They were married after he graduated in 1950. They moved to the Lehigh Valley, and he eventually ended up working with the U.S. Postal Service. Jean died four years ago. They have three children.
And now he exercises, proud he can still fit into his flight jacket.
Recalling his days growing up on the farm, he joked, “Our horses ended up in the glue factory, and I’m getting there.”
But not yet. So I’m happy we have this opportunity, on this Veterans Day and every day, to recognize him and all the other young men and women who have served on our behalf, in war and peace.
We’re divided on so many things these days, but I hope we’re united in this message:
Thank you.
Bill White’s commentary appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. bill.white@mcall.com, 610-820-6105