Lancaster man flew over 'The Hump' for democracy

LANCASTER – As a young man growing up, Ralph W. Aldenderfer had always wanted to learn how to fly airplanes.

"But there was just no way for someone like me, without any money, to learn how to fly," Aldenderfer, now 98 and living in Lancaster, said.

But World War II ended that. Little did he know then that he would be part of the first major airlift supply operation in the world, as one of the China-Burma-India "Hump" pilots.

As the threat to the U.S. became real with the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, the U.S. Army Air Corps eliminated its requirement that prospective pilots have aeronautical degrees and training.

Aldenderfer realized this was his opportunity to learn to fly. He took the Army flight test and was accepted into its flight training program in 1942.

By early 1942, Japan had already long controlled parts of China when it was able to take Burma and close the only land route available for the Allies to resupply China.

The Allies decided that the only way to keep China in the fight was to resupply the country by air over the Himalayan Mountain range.

Back in the U.S., Aldenderfer volunteered to join the new Air Transport Command and received training on flying with advanced instruments from Eastern Airlines.

"Back then, the civilian airlines had the most advanced aircraft and instrument flying controls, so we went to them for training," Aldenderfer said.

Aldenderfer was part of the the original Project Seven order that sent the first large wave of "Hump" pilots to the area to fly over mountain rang to what became known as "The Hump."

Aldenderfer traveled thousands of miles from the states to his new home base at Chabua Air Base in the Assam Province in India. The base was located in a U-shaped valley that at the height of the airlift included eight air force bases whose goal was to keep the Allied and Chinese forces supplied on the other side of the mountain range.

On July 16, 1943, Aldenderfer flew his first of 63 "Hump" missions in a C-46 Transport aircraft.

He first arrived as the monsoon season was already dumping its torrential rains between India and China.

"It made flying the Hump really bad. Any type of bad weather you can think of — storms, ice, wind, rain — was all there," Aldenderfer said. "When we first got there, they said it was so bad that we didn't fly at night, only during the day. But later on, we were were ordered to fly around the clock in all types of weather."

Aldenderfer remembers one mission when one of the two engines on his plane iced over and stalled.

"We were working on it and finally got it started again when the other engine went out," Aldenderfer said. "We were pretty close that time to bailing out."

The hump pilots from his area generally flew into Kunming, Yunan Yi or Cheng Yi. He more often than not carried 50 gallon drums of gasoline or ammunition.

"It was get up, dress, get parachute and .45-caliber automatic all together, ride to operations, file a flight plan for Kunming and be driven out to your plane loaded and ready, in a bomb-safe dispersal area," Aldenderfer wrote later.

At one point, he was able to start carrying passengers, and he noted that one of the brightest days was when he allowed a group of soldiers being sent into China to sneak a large German shepherd on board.

Another time a group of Red Cross nurses needed a lift.

"They needed two aircraft, one for the nurses and one for their luggage," Aldenderfer said. "Guess which one I got. The luggage."

When Aldenderfer first arrived the command was flying between 300 and 500 tons over the Hump. By December of 1943, they were delivering in excess of 10,000 tons. Eventually the command was flying between 30,000 to 40,000 tons of supplies into China, keeping the country in the war, Aldenderfer said.

Their daily missions to help supply Chinese and American troops continued from 1942 when the Japanese blocked the Burma Road until 1945.

Each round trip took between 10 to 15 hours of flying time to make it back to India.

"We would be flying around 20,000 feet over to China and 19,000 feet coming back and it got cold," Aldenderfer said. "We had a cockpit heater but didn't use it. If you had to bail out of the aircraft, you wanted to be wearing your parkas and clothing. If you had the heater on, you had to take the jackets off, so none of the pilots used the heaters."

By August 1944, Aldenderfer had made 63 round trips over the Hump and logged more than 450 flight hours, earning the Distinguished Flying Cross. The unit also was awarded the Presidential Unit Citation.

Aldenderfer once wrote that history does not treat this relatively forgotten part of World War II history kindly.

"But to those of us who lived through it, flew in the theatre on the Hump, and gave it our best effort always, and in too many cases lives, it was a very real wartime event which certainly merits a larger page in history, and some recognition," Aldenderfer wrote in a personal history he wrote a number of years ago.

After the war, Aldenderfer decided not to continue flying and to keep his feet on the ground, moving back into the civilian sector and becoming a director of purchasing for an auto supply manufacturer in Michigan.

"I want to stress that I was not in combat like fighter pilots. I was never attacked by Japanese fighters," Aldenderfer said. "We are not really heroes. We just did what we were ordered to."

cburnett@lancastereaglegazette.com

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Twitter: @CarlBurnettJr