Exercising his prerogative as Air chief and looking for better effects with the Combined Bomber Offensive, in December 1943 Arnold changed his senior air commanders in the European theater. Unhappy with the results of the Eighth Air Force, he approved General Eisenhower’s request to transfer Spaatz from the Mediterranean theater to England to help the supreme Allied commander plan Operation Overlord. Furthermore, Arnold placed Spaatz as the head of a larger air organization, the U.S. Strategic Air Forces in Europe, responsible for coordinating the entire U.S. air effort. In conjunction with Spaatz’s reassignment, Arnold placed the famous aviator Jimmy Doolittle in command of the Eighth Air Force, much to the consternation of its incumbent commander, Ira Eaker.104 Despite Eaker’s arguments for retaining his command, Arnold reassigned his longtime acquaintance to command of the Mediterranean Allied Air Forces. Though the transfer of Spaatz at Eisenhower’s request made for a somewhat convenient justification, Arnold left no doubt among those around him about his displeasure with Eaker’s performance, despite their longtime relationship.105
Arnold inspecting the Memphis Belle during a war bond tour. (Courtesy of the National Museum of the U.S. Air Force)
Arnold wanted to prove the efficacy of strategic bombing doctrine, while also promoting the idea of the need to establish an independent air force separate from the Army and Navy. Toward this end, and with a keen understanding of the importance of publicity, he was adamant about having significant press coverage of the air war and the Army Air Force’s efforts. In addition to relating bombing rates, sorties, and tonnage numbers, Arnold wanted to make a statement to the American people about the importance of airpower. He frequently leveraged the mass communications means available to him to publicize the efficacy of American airpower.106 Arnold was chagrined by Eaker’s low sortie rates in comparison to the RAF’s Bomber Command’s. In January 1944 he wrote to Spaatz and argued that the American press was giving the impression that the damage inflicted by the RAF exceeded that of the USAAF. Arnold requested that Spaatz someday “not too far distant, send out a big number—and I mean a big number—of bombers to hit something in the nature of an aircraft factory and lay it flat?”107 The emphasis he added to “and I mean a big number” and the intent to “lay it flat” speaks to the idea that one of Arnold’s main goals during the war was to have the Air Force contribute to winning the war to the greatest extent possible, while ensuring that the service receive its due credit in the public eye.108
Arnold shouldered large responsibilities in Washington, but he also continued to travel and meet with commanders in the field. In December 1943 he toured the Mediterranean area of operations, not only visiting Eisenhower and Spaatz but also seeing his son Hank, who was an artillery officer participating in the Monte Cassino campaign. While in Italy, General Mark Clark, Fifth Army commander, invited the Air chief to visit the front. Arnold accepted the offer, and Clark took Arnold to areas exposed to enemy fire. At one point a German 88-mm artillery shell exploded near their jeep, forcing some in the entourage to seek cover. Seeing the carnage of battle, Arnold was moved by the wounded men he observed, noting that he saw “a man with only half his innards, dying, but still smiling and saying, I am all right.”109 Ironically, despite his rank as one of the most senior officers in the U.S. military, this incident was the first and only time Arnold actually experienced battle firsthand.110
On May 10, 1944, Arnold suffered his third heart attack and flew to Coral Gables, Florida, for recovery and rest. Bee accompanied Arnold to Florida, but her presence was less than comforting.111 She too was stressed by her own responsibilities with the Air Force Aid Society, and the two had grown apart over the years. Given their large responsibilities during the war, their relationship suffered. By June he had recovered from this latest incident and was well enough to travel to Europe and see the results of the D-Day invasion in person. Arnold, along with other senior leaders, landed on the Normandy coast on June 12, just six days after the invasion. When he returned home, he resumed his normal schedule.112
In April 1944 the first Boeing B-29 Superfortress bombers began leaving the United States for service overseas. Arnold had been a strong advocate for the bomber since its inception and authorized the contract to build the first wooden mock-ups in 1940. He concerned himself personally with the development, deployment, and use of the bomber. The Superfortress had greater range and payload than the B-17s and B-24s the Army Air Force was then using, and Arnold thought that the airframe held great promise for the American war effort. He served as the biggest proponent of the immensely expensive B-29 program and put both his personal and professional reputation at risk in this effort. Regarding Arnold’s role in the development of the Superfortress, General Curtis LeMay wrote, “Arnold more than anyone else in the Air Corps, took the chances, cut the corners, and ordered this unique aircraft.”113 Called the “3 Billion Dollar Gamble,” the B-29 was a very complex airframe requiring the involvement of a significant portion of the American aircraft industry. Its four R-3350 engines were fire prone and problematic, however. Because of this problem, during early B-29 operations the crews talked more about the ability to take off safely at their home field than they did about flying over enemy territory. Wartime exigencies required that the plane be rushed into production without the normal test-and-development period. Arnold knew that both he and the Air Force would be held accountable if the program proved to be a white elephant.
While Arnold kept himself abreast of the B-29’s progress, his special interest in the bomber also forced him to assume his first combat command, albeit from Washington, D.C. Because there was no unity of command in the Pacific war, Arnold feared that the B-29s sent to the Pacific would be siphoned off for missions other than strategic bombing. None of the theater commanders in the Pacific were advocates of strategic bombing. Douglas MacArthur in the south Pacific, Joseph Stilwell in Southeast Asia, and Chester Nimitz in the central Pacific saw little promise in the strategic air effort. As a result, Arnold was loath to put the bomber under the charge of a single theater commander, who might then use the asset for tactical missions. Concerned about the lack of unity of command in the Pacific, and believing the unique capabilities of the new bomber demanded its own campaign, on April 4, 1944, Arnold created the Twentieth Air Force and assumed command two days later. Though he retained control of the organization from his office, he delegated authority to his subordinate commanders at forward bases in both China and the Mariana Islands.
On December 21, 1944, Arnold was finally awarded his fifth star as General of the Army. The leadership he displayed in running the global air war, his management of the world’s largest air fleet, and his willingness to make tough decisions proved his worthiness for the rank. The difficult replacement of underperforming friends and subordinates that Arnold made in Europe also occurred in the Pacific theater. During the early phases of the B-29 employment, the aircraft failed to meet its expectations, as operations in China were severely curtailed owing to logistical constraints. Additionally, the B-29 strikes flying out of the Marianas proved to be largely ineffectual. As he had done earlier in Europe, Arnold relieved the commander of the XX Bomber Command in China, General Kenneth Wolfe, and replaced him with General Curtis LeMay. Months later, as the China bombing effort proved logistically unfeasible, Arnold withdrew all the B-29s from China and consolidated them under the XXI Bomber Command on the Marianas. Here, too, Arnold found the commander of the XXI Bomber Command falling short of expectations. General Haywood Hansell, a framer of the Army Air Force’s precision strategic bombing concept, was relieved on January 19, 1945, and also replaced with LeMay. LeMay understood the B-29’s need for validation as a program and Arnold’s special interest in the aircraft. Toward this end LeMay stated, “General Arnold was absolutely determined to get results out of this weapon system [the B-29]. The turkey is around my neck. I’ve got to deliver.”114
In March 1945 LeMay developed an application that indeed validated the development of the B-29. On the nig
ht of March 9 the Twentieth Air Force conducted its first low-level incendiary raid on Tokyo. This raid became the harbinger of the American firebombing efforts over Japan that eventually razed over 180 square miles of Japanese urban area in the spring and summer of 1945. Upon learning of the results of the March 9 raid, Arnold congratulated LeMay and wrote, “This mission proves your crews have the guts for anything.”115
On January 17, two days before he relieved Hansell, Arnold experienced his fourth and most serious heart attack.116 While eating dinner at home he suffered a coronary occlusion and was again taken to Coral Gables for rest and treatment. At the time of the attack, Bee was in California on Air Force Aid Society business and flew to Florida to be at his bedside, but her presence was again less than comforting. She chastised her husband for his busy work schedule and for how he had driven himself to this poor medical state. The conversation between the two became heated and caused Hap’s blood pressure to rise. As a result, the attending physician, fearing for Arnold’s health, had Bee removed from the room.117 Frustrated with both Arnold and the doctor, Bee departed Florida for Washington. By February Arnold was recovering and joked about his health in a letter to his daughter, Lois, stating, “One of my cylinders blew a gasket and I had to get down here and have an overhaul job done.”118 Hap and Bee separated for a short time, but they eventually reconciled, and the general finally understood that he needed to make a lifestyle change.
After this latest medical episode, he relinquished some of his responsibilities to his subordinate Lieutenant General Barney Giles and went so far as to send his chief of the Air War Plans Division, Lieutenant General Larry Kuter, in his stead to attend the Yalta Conference in February 1945.
By March, however, he had returned to Washington and subsequently traveled to Europe as VE Day approached. While in Europe, he once again visited his son Hank, who penned a letter to Bee saying, “He [Arnold] is really enjoying himself and acting more like a tourist than anything. I personally think this trip has done him a world of good.”119 On VE Day, Arnold was again in a Florida hospital, but this time only to have some follow-up tests.120 While in Florida, he received a letter from President Harry Truman stating that the new commander in chief wished to have Arnold stay on as the Air chief. According to Arnold, Truman expressed “complete confidence in me and would like to keep me on the job.”121 After receiving a clean bill of health, Arnold traveled to the Pacific in June to visit with LeMay, other Army Air Force leaders, and Douglas MacArthur.
Arnold’s hard work, leadership skills, and managerial abilities were reflected in the growth of the Army Air Forces during the conduct of the war. He was a linchpin in the wartime marriage between American aircraft manufacturers and the U.S. military. American aircraft production for all types of aircraft increased from a paltry 6,028 in 1940 to a high of 95,272 during 1944.122 In addition, the Air Force grew from just over 20,000 men in June 1938 to 2,372,293 in June 1944.123 Overall, the Army Air Force grew from just 11 percent of the Army’s total strength to more than 30 percent.124 During his tenure Arnold built the world’s largest, most advanced, and most potent air armada, while managing an air fleet that conducted operations in every corner of the world.
Arnold did not play a significant role regarding the decision to drop the atomic bomb, although the Army Air Force was the method by which the device was delivered. Target selection was determined by a group of both military and civilian experts who reported their selections to Stimson, Marshall, and the head of the Manhattan Project, Major General Leslie Groves, and execution was left to the discretion of the Pacific air commander, Spaatz. While cognizant of the Manhattan Project and its potential, Arnold was not necessarily in favor of using the weapon. He submitted to the Joint Chiefs an assessment of the Twentieth Air Force’s ongoing bombing effort and argued, “Acceleration and augmentation of the strategic air program culminating in a land campaign, will bring about the defeat of Japan with a minimum loss of American lives.”125 He agreed with Marshall that airpower alone could not win the war and believed that at least one of the two planned amphibious invasions of Japan was required. Regardless of his opinions, he was informed of the atomic bombings via private communication line to his house; when the Japanese announced their surrender, Arnold had no real celebration at his home until fellow officers began to drop by and offer their congratulations.126
Victory over the Axis powers claimed many casualties, including Arnold. By VJ Day he was an exhausted man. Having suffered four heart attacks, a frantic work pace for the preceding few years, and marital strife, he was ready to retire.127 Early in 1945 he had already made the decision to leave active duty service, and with peace at hand, the timing was propitious.128 Demobilization became the new challenge facing the services, but Arnold left much of that planning and effort to his subordinates and successor.129 On November 8, 1945, he forwarded a memo requesting retirement on February 6, and he left Washington on March 1, 1946.130
A few years earlier, in 1943, he and Bee had purchased a ranch, El Rancho Feliz, quietly tucked away in the hills near Sonoma, California. After some forty years of military service and living on a military pension, he could not claim to be a rich man. Though he had led the largest air force in the world and was an international figure of some renown, Arnold’s lifestyle changed appreciably, as he had a sizable mortgage and only a few thousand dollars to his name.131 He lived tranquilly at his ranch with Bee and spent much of his time making furniture and tending to his animals. He served for a short time as the California Game and Fish commissioner and in 1946 began working on his memoirs. Thinking that his autobiography might be a way to help improve his financial situation, he worked with William Laidlaw on writing the manuscript. The two men at times had an acrimonious relationship, but they finished the book in 1949. By the time he submitted his manuscript to the publishers, however, they had lost much of their initial interest. Despite good reviews, the book experienced only modest sales.
In January 1948 Arnold suffered his fifth heart attack and was bedridden for three months. Despite this medical setback, his spirits were buoyed when in May 1949 he received yet another military accolade. President Truman wrote to Arnold stating that he had approved his promotion as the first General of the Air Force. He flew to Washington to receive the promotion from Truman personally; the official rank was designated on May 7, 1949.
Eight months later, in the early morning of January 15, 1950, Arnold passed away quietly in his home at the age of sixty-three. He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery with full military honors on January 19. Funeral plans called for a huge military flyover in respect for the father of the Air Force, but weather conditions precluded the event. Bee died years later, at the age of ninety-one, and was buried alongside him.
The Air Force owes much of its very existence to Arnold and his belief in airpower. Despite his lack of real combat command and experience, he fought other kinds of battles in Washington, D.C., in the halls of Congress, in aviation factories, and in corporate board-rooms to create an independent Air Force. Though his battles were less glamorous, and certainly less exciting, they were no less important than those fought in overseas theaters. His victories and the legacies he established last to this day.
Notes
1. H. H. Arnold, Global Mission (New York: Harper and Row, 1949), 5. Thomas Coffey, Hap: The Story of the U.S. Air Force and the Man Who Built It, General Henry H. “Hap” Arnold (New York: Viking Press, 1982), 12.
2. Coffey, Hap, 15.
3. Arnold, Global Mission, 6; Coffey, Hap, 15.
4. Ibid.
5. Coffey, Hap, 16.
6. Dik Daso, Hap Arnold and the Evolution of American Airpower (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 2000), 235; Arnold, Global Mission, 7.
7. Daso, Hap Arnold, 26–27.
8. Coffey, Hap, 22.
9. Ibid., 32–33.
10. Ibid., 31; Daso, Hap Arnold, 34.
11. Daso, Hap Arnold, 35.
12. Arnold, Globa
l Mission, 11.
13. Ibid., 12; Daso, Hap Arnold, 37.
14. Arnold, Global Mission, 12; Daso, Hap Arnold, 37.
15. Dik Daso, “The Origins of Airpower: Hap Arnold’s Early Career in Aviation Technology, 1903–1935,” Airpower Journal (Winter 1996): 71.
16. Daso, Hap Arnold, 43.
17. Ibid.
18. Arnold, Global Mission, 15; Coffey, Hap, 40; Daso, Hap Arnold, 43.
19. Arnold, Global Mission, 19.
20. Ibid.
21. Daso, “Origins of Airpower,” 72.
22. Arnold, Global Mission, 39–40.
23. Daso, Hap Arnold, 57.
24. Daso, Hap Arnold, 58; Coffey, Hap, 62.
25. Coffey, Hap, 63.
26. Ibid.
27. Arnold, Global Mission, 43; Daso, Hap Arnold, 59.
28. Daso, Hap Arnold, 73.
29. Ibid., 77; Coffey, Hap, 80.
30. Coffey, Hap, 80.
31. Arnold, Global Mission, 45.
32. Ibid., 46; Daso, Hap Arnold, 84; Coffey, Hap, 90.
33. Daso, “Origins of Airpower,” 75.
34. Daso, Hap Arnold, 101.
35. Arnold, Global Mission, 107; Coffey, Hap, 101; Daso, Hap Arnold, 105.
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