The USS Flier

by Michael Sturma

  In the cooler weather of the mountains, the men's health quickly improved. They lodged with T. H. Edwards, an American citizen, in a bamboo house built on stilts. Edwards had married a local woman before the war and ran a business at Brooke's Point. Baumgart described him as “a God-fearing man who gave the group food, shelter and comfort.”13 All Edwards asked for in return was a pair of leather shoes once a rescue party arrived. While recuperating, the men passed the time by reading six-year-old issues of Reader's Digest and making things out of bamboo. After a few days of a decent diet, augmented by some medicine and rations from the coast watchers, the men of the Flier were ready to undertake preparations for their return to Australia.

  On 26 August the Flier group received instructions by radio from the commander of the Seventh Fleet to begin making arrangements for an evacuation. The men were supposed to designate the appropriate pickup time, location, and security signals. They also received a dispatch from the commander of Task Force 71 at Perth, stating that there were at least two U.S. submarines in the vicinity, awaiting instructions.

  The next day Crowley and the others conferred with Captain Mayor about arranging transport and getting his men's cooperation for a rendezvous. Given the weakened condition of the Flier survivors, it was decided that the evacuation should take place at a nearby location rather than risk a lengthy journey and possible encounter with the enemy. Although atmospheric conditions were making radio transmission difficult, Crowley submitted a rescue plan to the commander of the Seventh Fleet on the evening of 28 August; a message approving the plan was received at 1:00 A.M. the following day. The men were informed that the submarine USS Redfin would be in the vicinity on 30 August to pick them up. Back in Australia, though, there was still concern that the Redfin might be sailing into a trap.14

  15

  USS Redfin

  The USS Redfin (SS-272) was one of twenty-eight submarines constructed at Manitowoc, Wisconsin, under license from the Electric Boat Company. At one stage the Redfin had lain side by side with the USS Robalo, which was also being built there. The Manitowoc yard's most distinctive engineering feat was the manner in which the submarines were launched: they were dropped sideways into Lake Michigan instead of the traditional stern-first launch into the water. From Manitowoc the submarines were floated more than 1,000 miles down the Illinois and Mississippi rivers until they reached New Orleans.1

  After being commissioned on 31 August 1943, the Redfin left New Orleans for Fremantle on 15 October 1943. This was unusual, since most new submarines made their way to Pearl Harbor for their initial patrols. Only after operating out of Fremantle for a year did the Redfin head for Pearl Harbor as part of a wolf pack with the USS Barbero and the USS Haddo.

  The Redfin made its first war patrol out of Fremantle on 4 January 1944, skippered by Robert Donovan King. After this patrol, on 2 March 1944, King was replaced by Lieutenant Commander Marshall Harlan “Cy” Austin. The thirty-three-year-old Austin was from Eldorado, Oklahoma, and had graduated from the Naval Academy with the class of 1935. At the academy, Austin was remembered as an avid rower and for his habit of taking a cold shower every morning. He entered the submarine service in 1940 and had been deployed in the Philippines when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. At the time, his wife was back in Honolulu, only weeks away from giving birth to their first child.2

  Under Cy Austin, the Redfin departed for its second war patrol on 19 March. During this patrol the Redfin sank two Japanese freighters as well as the destroyer Akigumo. The highly mobile Akigumo had been an escort for the Japanese forces attacking Pearl Harbor, participated in the Battle of Midway, and later helped evacuate Japanese troops from Kiska in the Aleutians. On 11 April 1944 the Redfin torpedoed the destroyer some thirty miles southeast of Zamboanga in the Philippines. The ship went down with 137 men, including its captain, Lieutenant Commander Atsuo Iritono.3 This was an impressive debut for Austin's first command. The Redfin received credit for sinking an estimated 10,000 tons of enemy shipping, making it the most successful Fremantle-based patrol of the month.4

  The Redfin began its third patrol on 26 May 1944 in the company of the USS Harder, commanded by Sam Dealey. The two submarines already shared an impressive history: on the same day the Redfin sank the Akigumo, the Harder sank the Ikazuchi, another Japanese destroyer. As they left Fremantle for their fifth war patrol, the Harder and Dealey were about to enter the realm of submarine legend. Carrying two Australian commandos, the Harder was headed for Borneo to rescue a group of secret operatives being pursued by the Japanese. In addition to rescuing the operatives, the Harder claimed the sinking of five Japanese destroyers along the way. It would be proclaimed one of the most brilliant submarine patrols of the war.

  The Redfin’s patrol would prove highly successful as well. On their way north, the Redfin and the Harder stopped at Exmouth Gulf to refuel. In addition to its regular crew, the Redfin carried a small intelligence party bound for Balabac Strait—Sergeant Amando Corpus and five enlisted men, the same group that would later radio Australia and inform headquarters of the Flier’s fate. The commandos on board both submarines took the opportunity to train at Exmouth. Corpus and his men practiced handling their rubber boats and borrowed a manila line from the Harder that would later be used to help land their equipment.

  Having landed Corpus and his coast watchers on Ramos Island on 8 June, the Redfin proceeded to carry out reconnaissance off the Japanese anchorage at Tawi Tawi. On the morning of 13 June, Austin watched as a vanguard of destroyers and two heavy cruisers departed Tawi Tawi. A couple of hours later a fleet of at least six aircraft carriers, four battleships, five heavy cruisers, and their escorts emerged from the anchorage. The submarine was unable to close on the Japanese ships or to keep up with them as they steamed off. That evening, though, the Redfin sent a radio message about the fleet's movement. This intelligence, combined with that of other submarines, including the Harder, made a substantial contribution to the American victory in what became the Battle of the Philippine Sea.

  At the end of the patrol the Redfin radioed that it was heading back to the barn for some “moose milk”—a mixture of whiskey, Advocat liqueur, and milk. On leave, Austin and his officers had developed a reputation for drinking the strange concoction. The Redfin received credit for sinking two enemy ships, later confirmed by JANAC.5

  The Redfin commenced its fourth war patrol when it departed Fremantle on the afternoon of 6 August 1944, along with the USS Jack. Eight days later the Redfin passed through the Malay Barrier at Lombok Strait, exchanging recognition signals with the southbound USS Cabrilla. By 19 August the Redfin was laying mines at Api Passage, replenishing a field of twenty-three mines initially laid by the USS Trout in April 1943.6 Austin and his crew may have reflected on the fact that the Trout was now missing, having disappeared with all hands on its eleventh war patrol in February 1944.

  A few days later the Redfin was patrolling west of the Balabac Islands. Austin was clearly aware of the danger posed by enemy mines, and on the afternoon of 22 August he noted in the patrol report, “I did not know my position very well and was afraid of the mine fields.”7 At 9:00 P.M. on 24 August the submarine received instructions to proceed to coordinates in the Sulu Sea. The Redfin reached its destination at about noon on 27 August, and at 6:40 that evening it was ordered to patrol the central Sulu Sea area. The Redfin headed east toward the atoll-like Tubbataha Reefs, located about 100 miles southeast of Puerto Princesa. The following day, near midnight, the crew received instructions for a special mission. Given the Redfin’s recent experience with special missions in the Palawan area—that is, landing the coast watchers on Ramos—it was an obvious choice to pick up the stranded Flier crewmen.

  Austin's personal reaction to these orders is unknown, but most submarine commanders were less than enthusiastic about the prospect of a special mission. Many skippers resented any distraction from what they perceived as their main objective—sinking Japanese shipping. In fact, submarines on special missions
were often forbidden to attack enemy ships, to avoid compromising the operation.8

  Robert Foley, skipper of the Gato, complained that special missions meant not only time off station but also danger due to shallow waters and enemy ambushes.9 These dangers were all too familiar to Austin and the Redfin crew. During its second patrol out of Fremantle, the Redfin had attempted to extract a group of Australian commandos, code-named Python, from northeastern Borneo. Harried by the Japanese and running short of food, the commandos were desperate for evacuation. The Redfin reached the proposed rendezvous on 2 May 1944, but when a boat party from the submarine went in to get the commandos, it was ambushed by the Japanese. The submariners were lucky to escape with their lives, and the planned evacuation was aborted.10 These Python commandos were the same men eventually rescued in June by the Harder.

  Memories of the aborted rescue attempt on Borneo may have dampened the Redfin crew's enthusiasm for a similar mission. However, the prospect of rescuing fellow submariners likely tempered their aversion to getting too close to shore.

  The Redfin surfaced at 6:40 P.M. on 29 August, setting course to carry out its mission. The submarine was supposed to rendezvous with a “friendly boat party” at 8:00 P.M. on 30 August off Brooke's Point. Austin's orders were to pick up not only the eight Flier crewmen but also a British missionary and his family. If the coast was clear, three white lights would shine from the Brooke's Point lighthouse.

  In the early hours of 30 August the Redfin made radar contact with Tagalinog Island, an eighteen-hectare dot in the ocean not far off Brooke's Point. The Redfin patrolled to the east, and before sunrise it dived and began navigating a course to the rendezvous point. By early afternoon the crew spotted a cargo ship heading toward Brooke's Point from the north. To their dismay, it anchored within a mile of the rendezvous coordinates. Was this an unlucky coincidence or a Japanese trap?

  The Redfin crept to within 3,000 yards of the suspect craft. It did not appear to be armed, but it definitely carried radio equipment. The submarine watched and waited.

  16

  Evacuees

  From shore the Flier survivors also watched with unease as a Japanese ship parked itself near the designated rendezvous point at 1:30 in the afternoon. Crowley and his men had arrived at the beach that morning, transported by water buffalo. Some of the men were still without shoes.

  The Japanese craft was described as a small maru, or sea truck, of about 200 tons. The Japanese relied heavily on such small wooden cargo ships for logistical support. The sea trucks were typically distinguished by their boxlike design, and they were sometimes armed with machine guns, mortars, or a three-inch gun.1 This particular ship did not appear to be armed, but its presence was a severe blow to the men's morale, since they assumed that the Japanese had somehow gotten wind of the rescue plan. Nevertheless, they continued to prepare for their departure.

  The number of evacuees had more than doubled from the original eight survivors of the Flier to a total of seventeen. Included among this number were a Scottish missionary, his wife, and their son and daughter. A. M. Sutherland, described as “representing no particular faith,” had lived on Palawan Island for the past twelve years. His son, Alistair, was six years old, and his daughter, Heather, was only three. Sutherland mainly looked after the health of the locals, but he also seemed to be eager to contribute to the Allied war effort. He claimed to have some knowledge of Japanese air fields on the island and the prison camp at Puerto Princesa.2 The day after the Flier survivors arrived at the home of T. H. Edwards, Sutherland had paid them a visit, and at Crowley's request, the missionary conducted a religious service for them. Jacobson described Sutherland as “a fine person” and the church service as “very impressive.”3

  A number of others also waited at Brooke's Point, hoping to catch a ride to Australia on the Redfin. Each man had his own extraordinary story of survival in the wake of the Japanese invasion. Two of the men were from the U.S. Army. George V. Marquez and William E. Wigfield had enlisted in 1940 and were working on the ground crew at the Nichols Field air base in Manila when the war broke out. On 14 December 1941 they were evacuated to Mindoro, and after the surrender of Bataan in April 1942, Marquez, Wigfield, and about fifty others headed for the hills. They made their way to northern Panay and then sailed south in a boat. They were at Cuyo Island when the Japanese troops arrived on 20 May 1942. Most of their companions surrendered to the Japanese, but the two ex-soldiers took to the hills again. They arrived at Brooke's Point in December 1943.

  Charles O. Watkins was an American sailor. He had been with the ground forces of Pat Wing 10 at Olongopo, but after evacuation he ended up with the Naval Coast Defense Battalion at Marvivalles. In March 1942 he transferred to Fort Hughes in Manila Bay, and he surrendered to the Japanese on 6 May 1942. He spent some time in Bilibid Prison at Manila and a prison camp on northern Luzon. From there Watkins endured a forced march to the Bonbabong concentration camp. Along with 350 other prisoners, he was eventually sent by freighter to the prison camp at Puerta Princesa. He escaped from that camp on 12 August 1942 and later met up with Marquez and Wigfield in northern Palawan.

  Henry C. Garretson was a U.S. citizen and a civil engineer. He had worked in the Philippines since 1920, first for the government and later in business for himself. Once the war began he worked as a demolition engineer for the army and helped salvage arms and ammunition from the SS Panay, which had been sunk in March 1942 by Japanese planes in Campomanes Bay at the island of Negros. Divers retrieved the Panay’s cargo to arm the local guerrillas. In September 1942 Garretson headed south in an attempt to recruit help for the guerrillas on Panay and Negros. By the time he reached Brooke's Point he had contracted malaria. He stayed in the area and helped organize the Philippine constabulary force.

  The night before the planned evacuation, Vens Kerson arrived at the Edwards home. He had been traveling the district, collecting rice to help feed the guerrillas and sometimes trading beer or whiskey salvaged from Japanese ships. Jacobson declared the forty-four-year-old Kerson to be “one of the most interesting persons I have ever met.” Austin described him as a “soldier of fortune.”4 Kerson had fought the Japanese at Shanghai in 1932 and later joined the American army at Cebu after the war began. His skills included diving and, like Garretson, he had worked on the salvage of the Panay. After living for a time in the mountains, he traveled to Brooke's Point and, as previously noted, led the local guerrilla movement for a time. Not the least of his dangerous activities included dismantling Japanese mines that washed ashore; he then used the black powder to reload shotgun shells for the guerrillas.

  To make their escape, the evacuees borrowed two boats from a local Moro described as the “District Dato.” One of the boats was equipped with an outboard motor and a hand-cranked radio. There was no shortage of fuel, since it was not uncommon for fifty-gallon drums of gasoline to wash ashore from Japanese ships. There was, however, a shortage of lubricating oil, and Crowley promised to provide the Moro boat owner with some oil from the Redfin when it arrived. They also borrowed a portable transmitter-receiver from the coast watchers to carry in one of the boats.5

  With the Japanese ship still sitting offshore that evening, there was no way to display the designated signal from the Brooke's Point lighthouse. The Flier men and the other evacuees set off in the two boats, one towing the other, at about 8:00 P.M. The plan was to go down the coast for three or four miles, carefully avoiding the anchored Japanese ship, and attempt to contact the Redfin by radio. Unfortunately, they got no response from the Redfin. They decided to keep moving southeast, taking them even farther from the Japanese ship. If they were still unable to establish radio contact, at least they could attempt a light signal. Once in position, Russo tried to signal the submarine with a shielded lamp.6

  When they failed again to make contact with the submarine, the evacuees grew increasingly tense. Unbeknownst to them, the Redfin had actually received a message from the boats earlier in the evening using the designa
ted codes, but it had been unable to establish two-way communication. At around 11:00 P.M. a discouraged Austin took the Redfin out to sea to charge the batteries. Back in the boats, some of the evacuees claimed that they could hear the submarine's engines, but others dismissed this as wishful thinking.

  Finally, near midnight, radio contact was made using continuous-wave keying. Apparently, static from the boat's outboard motor had prevented them from establishing voice communications. By this time, the boats were five miles off Brooke's Point, and at 12:43 A.M. the Redfin spotted them.

  As it happened, the Redfin was carrying two Australian commandos. Following the Harder’s successful use of commandos to evacuate the Python operatives from Borneo, Admiral Ralph Christie agreed to their routine presence on U.S. submarines. Designated Operation Politician, the idea was that these men might be useful in checking local sailing craft, carrying out beach reconnaissance, conducting interrogations, or attacking targets of opportunity. The policy of assigning pairs of Australian commandos to some submarines continued until May 1945.7

  Major William Jinkins, planner and leader of the Python extraction, was now on the Redfin. He was assisted by Lieutenant T. J. Barnes. The pair had already made themselves useful by checking sailboats for Japanese soldiers or radios that might be used to transmit the positions of U.S. submarines. On 29 August Christie wrote to Vice Admiral Thomas Kinkaid and noted how fortunate it was that the Redfin was carrying Jinkins and Barnes, along with their special equipment.8

  To ensure that there was no trap, Jinkins and Barnes paddled a low-profile canoe, known as a folboat, to the evacuees’ waiting boats. Once the crowded boats were checked, the submarine pulled alongside and flooded down to take on the passengers. Austin, an old friend of Crowley's, was able to recognize his voice. Although Austin had been four years behind Crowley at the Naval Academy, in the small world of submarine skippers, most of them knew one another personally. Austin was also pleasantly surprised to recognize two of the coast watchers he had landed on Ramos Island on 8 June. The radio equipment being used had also been shipped in by the Redfin.9