Splash Nine!

The statistics are unbelievable if you look at it. The six fifties each averaged 44 rounds fired, times the six guns. That's 266 rounds per plane. If you do it nine times you've used up your 2,400 rounds and bagged nine Japanese aircraft.

Browning M2 .50 calibers alternating with equal numbers of armor-piercing, incendiary and tracers spit lead at a cyclic rate of 750 rounds per minute or about 12 rounds per second. That meant three and a half seconds of fire per target. And the average rounds per target is actually less than that if you factor in two probables and misses.

That's the way you might analyze it in flight sims. But this was no simulation for Commander David McCampbell, U.S.N. on October 24, 1944 off Luzon.

Born on January 16, 1910, this Bessemer Alabama native's naval career began with dismissal. Graduating Annapolis in depression- era 1933, he was rewarded with an honorable discharge from a Navy without funds. But in June 1934 McCampbell was called back and commissioned. In 1936 his first assignment involving aircraft was gunnery observer aboard the U.S.S. Portland. 1937 saw him report to Pensacola flight school and in 1938 he won the coveted gold wings.

The Wasp was home from 1940 until she went to the bottom in 1942. During that time were two hot runs to the Mediterranean delivering Spitfires to Malta and support to the Guadalcanal campaign.

After the Wasp's sinking, McCampbell returned to the States to fit out a new squadron, Air Group 15, aka "The Fabled Fifteen." In February 1943 through early 1944 the group was aboard the Essex steaming into history. They saw action in attacks on Iwo Jima, Formosa, the Marianas, Palau, Philippines, Nansei, Shotos and climaxed with the Battle of the Philippine Sea (Marianas Turkey Shoot).

Commander McCampbell personally destroyed his first seven enemy aircraft. Flying from the Lexington with VF 16, Lt. Alex Vraciu claimed six during one flight at the Turkey Shoot. Oddly, Vraciu destroyed a seventh that was already heavily damaged but did not claim it.

When Task Force 38 entered into the war's greatest naval battle- the Battle for Leyte Gulf, the personnel had been in constant operation without rest. This is how it entered into the October 20th landings in the Philippines. But it was critical to sever Japan's supply lines to the south. Tokyo acknowledged that it would decide the fate of the Empire, one way or the other. McCampbell's Grumman F6F Hellcat was on the Essex, one of sixteen carriers in Admiral Mitchner's group.

The sighting of Admiral Kurita's force set into motion the American response which awakened McCampbell in the middle of the night. He was to lead the second strike several hours after the first had launched.

Arising at 05:30 McCampbell has plenty of time before the 09:00 launch. He had breakfast and checked out his survival gear, strapping on his .38 and knife. A check of weather promised perfect flying conditions.

At 07:30 a surprise launch of 29 fighters only is announced. It's not his second strike. He waits some more. At 08:00 radar picks up specks to the west. The enemy is headed for the group! Suddenly another enemy air group is seen on radar. Officers hurriedly assemble a defensive group to intercept. And while McCampbell has standing orders not to engage in defensive scrambles, the P.A. announcement "all fighter pilots man your planes," he reasons he is a fighter pilot and therefore included.

Now a third force is seen heading from Luzon to the west. This is why no enemy carriers were seen. This was a land based attack.

But now the Chief of Staff had ordered McCampbell not to take off. Wait! Now the call is "all available fighter pilots." He goes.

Soon in the cockpit of his F6F- MINSI III- McCampbell finds fuel still being pumped into the tanks by crewmen. Being in number one position he must launch or be taken below. With 275 gallons on board he waves off the fueling crew and the catapult soon throws MINSI III into the air. Only six more F6F's are available to follow. Ensign Roy Rushing soon joins on Dave. Both test their guns with a quick jab at the button and all guns fire.

Radar has the bandits at 18,000 feet 22 miles north. The 2,250 horsepower of the Pratt & Whitney pulls the fighter up to 12,000 feet. Rushing's F6F is there but the other five Hellcats are far behind now.

Trimmed to climb at 150 knots, McCampbell sees a large formation of 60 bandits 4,000 feet above. Its a full range of aircraft- Bettys, Vals, Oscars, Zekes, and Tonys. Commander McCampbell orders the other five fighters to attack the bombers at 18,000 feet as he and Rushing head for the fighters at 21,000.

Forlornly he keys the mike to ask for assistance, "This is Nine- Nine Rebel. I have only seven planes. Please send help." "Sorry, nobody available," is the empty reply.

With the enemy spread in a big V formation and heading back to Luzon, he and Rushing are now 2,000 feet above it and still unseen.

The Hellcat wings over and bears in on the last plane, a brownish-green Zeke. Shells tear into the Zeke and pieces fly backward as the enemy looms large in the gunsight. Pulling up he sees fire and smoke from the stricken plane. Victory! No chute. Rushing claims one also.

There is no reaction from the formation as McCampbell pushes over for another pass. The other five Hellcats are attacking the bombers below. Stick and rudder positions MINSI III behind another Zeke. 75 rounds per second converge on the Misubishi as he holds the trigger down. Smoke and flame erupt from the enemy as it falls from the formation. Victim number two!

The fighters now form a defensive Lufberry. McCampbell decides a head-on pass is best since to fall in behind a plane would put the F6F in front of the guns of the plane behind. At 1,500 feet he opens up and registers hits but is met by enemy tracers. A second pass yields the same results. He notices small holes in the Grumman's wings. The big radial is running smoothly though. No damage.

Back up above the gaggle he relaxes and calls for help from any planes in the area as the circle continues below. Not one fighter turns or climbs to engage the Hellcats! Essex has no fighters and can offer mere encouragement. Only one of the five F6F's attacking the bombers responds. He has taken out two bombers but climbs to join Rushing and McCampbell.

Now the Japanese fighters make their move. They break the Lufberry and string out towards Luzon. McCampbell reasons that they must be low on fuel to rationalize the non-aggressive behavior.

McCampbell

A straggler way behind the ragged V formation is seen. Nosing over MINSI picks up speed. Hastily closing on the matte green plane, McCampbell opens up at 900 feet. 92 percent of the fifties converge in a three foot square at that range in the wing root area. The plane disintegrates like grated cheese, explodes and falls. No chute. Rushing also explodes a fighter.

McCampbell picks out a Nakajima KI. 43 Oscar for number four. As soon as he fires a short burst he see tracers flying past his wing. "Damn! Where'd that guy come from?" he wonders as he horses the nose up.

Below is the third Hellcat, not an enemy, firing at McCampbell's victim. After a few choice words he lines up again. Another Oscar is soon closed on. It carries a belly tank. The Brownings again are aimed at the wing root. Once more there is no chute.

It is obvious now that the enemy will not put up resistance. McCampbell reasons that a group of his pilots in the same situation would break off to fight a delaying action so their pals could escape. The Japanese pilots continue to inflexibly die obeying their leader's order to "maintain formation."

Shaking his head he selects yet another victim. He misses this time but comes back down again to flame a Tony. As if in a euphoric dream he and Rushing slide down once more. A calculated burst detonates a Zeke's tanks. McCampbell has six now and Roy Rushing has four.

He eyes the diminishing fuel gauge reading. Rushing is getting low on ammo, but McCampbell is not about to break off the attack. Another quarry is pouring greasy black smoke and heading down but there are too many planes about for McCampbell to follow him down. Soon both Americans each claim another. That's seven for McCampbell and five for Rushing. The decimated formation drones on.

Shells hit a new target now, but the smoker banks away. McCampbell can't claim him.

But now Rushing is not in sight. "Did they get him?" he wonders. Without rear cover MINSI is vulnerable. Looking back he sees a plane climbing to attack position. The bogey is closing as MINSI's throttle is opened. Still closing!

McCampbell pushes it through the wire stop to war emergency power as water injection gives the engine a heavy boost. The radial is roaring as McCampbell calls out. "Roy waggle your wings." The bogey was still narrowing the distance to MINSI's six o'clock. The bogey's wing bounce up and down. It's Rushing.

Rushing had stayed down longer on that last pass but claimed his sixth kill. But it was his last as all his ammo was gone now. "Dave, I'm out of ammunition." "Roy, this is Dave. I've got some left. Do you want to stay up here and watch or come down with me?" "I'll go down with you, skipper," Rushing replies.

The pair resume the fantasy battle. The Japs are losing altitude as Luzon materializes ahead. After a long dive just off the coast McCampbell repeats the hat trick with two short bursts of .50's to the wing root at 900 feet. The Zero is in flames.

Soon MINSI is in the last dive. Dave hopes for enough ammo for one more firing pass. Calmly a ninth victim slides into the yellow sight ring. Down to 12,000 feet now he can see the rising sun insignia clearly on the wings. The guns bark and hits register. But some guns are giving out now as the ammo trays run dry. But it is sufficient. The plane rolls drunkenly as smoke and fire mark its vertical descent. Again, no chute.

"Roy, I'm down to 45 gallons. I'm slowing to thirteen fifty revolutions," states McCampbell. "I've got plenty of fuel. I'll stay with you," answers Roy as the two fighters slow to a crawl of 130 knots.

Essex gives McCampbell a steering course to bring him home. The pair is down to 6,000 feet and 60 miles away now as they inch their way inbound. MINSI has but 25 gallons left in her tanks. The radio crackles with word from Essex. "Continue on....Will land you in about fifteen minutes." McCampbell is told that Essex is launching a strike and all planes must get off the deck before they can take him aboard. It will be close! As the duo plod their way southeast McCampbell realizes it's not yet 10:00. The slow pace makes the events of the morning seem like days have gone by.

Ahead the Hornet looms in the water. Her gunners begin to fire on the Hellcats and her CAP of F6F's dive in to attack. They've been mistaken for the enemy! Frenzied calls to Hornet's C.I.C. finally ceases the defensive action. Rushing and McCampbell are right above the waves now. The Commander reflects what a nearly ironic end to a perfect mission it almost was- to be shot down by his fellow pilots.

Finally Essex appears with her destroyer ring. But the deck is still full of aircraft and the thirsty blue Hellcat has only ten gallons of fuel remaining. McCampbell eases over to the Langley but her decks are loaded too!

McCampbell is informed that they are launching in order to take him aboard. Agonizing over his diminishing fuel he stands off nearby. The gauge actually reads zero as he eventually turns in on his final glide path. With a thump he caught the second wire and begins to taxi to a parking slot. MINSI coughs through the last ounces of her fuel as the engine shuts down.

Walking around his aircraft he sees that the damage to the wings he noticed was actually from pieces of disintegrating enemy planes, not bullets. The ordnance man that began to rearm the plane reported that six rounds of the 2,400 remained due to feed stoppage.

The Langley air group commander was elated that he downed five planes that morning and, of course, McCampbell is looked at in disbelief when he mentions he got nine or ten.

Later that day back aboard the Essex McCampbell caught hell from Admiral Sherman for scrambling against orders. McCampbell was told to never let that happen again. He didn't. But he did subsequently shoot down 18 more enemy aircraft in the air and 21 on the ground.

The two probables "probably" never made it back to Luzon but the Congressional Medal of Honor was awarded for the flight of nine and the earlier mission of seven victories. During his 31 year Naval career he rose to the rank of Captain and was also awarded the Navy Cross, Silver Star, Legion of Merit, Distinguished Flying Cross, with two Gold Stars, Air Medal with one Gold Star, and a Presidential Unit Citation.

Captain McCampbell died at age 86 in Florida on June 30, 1996.