The Mannerheim Line

The Mannerheim Line

by

Jacques Evans

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2002 by Jacques Evans

All rights reserved.

Also by Jacques Evans

Scammed

Whiskey 6

Fraser's Run

Mizrahi's Prison

South of Cayenne

Kuchma's Dictum

Flight to Dungavel

The Betty G's Gold

The Mannerheim Line

The Czar's Last Soldier

Von Weizsacker's Diary

Last Bridge to Baghdad

Last Flight of the Blue Goose

This book is for personal use only. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means without the prior written consent of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a newspaper, magazine or journal article.

This is a work of fiction. All similarities between characters and persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 ~ New York, 1928 - 1933

Chapter 2 ~ New York, Newark, 1933

Chapter 3 ~ Newark, College Park, 1933 - 1934

Chapter 4 ~ Newark, College Park, 1934

Chapter 5 ~ Newark, California, 1934

Chapter 6 ~ Newark, California, 1934

Chapter 7 ~ California, Newark, 1934

Chapter 8 ~ California, Newark, 1934 - 1936

Chapter 9 ~ Newark, Chicago, 1936

Chapter 10 ~ Newark, New York, England, France, 1936

Chapter 11 ~ Gibraltar, Spain, 1936 - 1939

Chapter 12 ~ Gibraltar, Switzerland, Finland, 1939

Chapter 13 ~ Finland, January 1940

Chapter 14 ~ Washington, D.C., February 1940

Chapter 15 ~ Finland, February - March 1940

Chapter 16 ~ Finland, Gibraltar, March 1940

Chapter 17 ~ Washington, D.C., April 1940

Chapter 18 ~ Gibraltar, April 1940

Chapter 19 ~ England, April 1940

Chapter 20 ~ England, Europe, May - June 1940

Chapter 21 ~ England, July - August 1940

Chapter 22 ~ England, August 1940

Chapter 23 ~ England, August - November 1940

Chapter 24 ~ Washington, D.C., November 1940

Chapter 25 ~ England, November 1940 - December 1941

Chapter 26 ~ Washington, D.C., December 1941

Chapter 27 ~ England, France, Germany, January 1942 - March 1945

Chapter 28 ~ China, Burma, India, Newark, January 1942 - March 1945

Chapter 29 ~ Newark, California, Germany, April 1945 - June 1948

Chapter 30 ~ Germany, June 1948 - May 1949

Chapter 31 ~ Newark, California, June 1950

Chapter 32 ~ Washington, Japan, Korea, June 1950 - November 1953

Chapter 33 ~ Japan, Korea, June 1950 - November1953

Chapter 34 ~ Miami, Central America, December 1953 - April 1960

Chapter 35 ~ Miami, Central America, Cuba, May 1960 - April 1961

Epilogue

Chapter 1 ~ New York, 1928 - 1933

The decision to build a municipal airport was made on February 3, 1928. That same day sixteen-year-old Jimmy Carson's father died in his sleep in a walk-up tenement on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn. At the time New York City did not have an airport. The city fathers decided to build the airport on Barren Island a 387 acre marsh with thirty-three small islands. Located in Jamaica Bay, on the southern tip of Brooklyn, Barren Island was chosen by aviator Clarence Chamberlin as it was easy to locate from the air and did not have any obstructions.

Not aware of this momentous decision Jimmy Carson, an only child and now his mother's sole support, had to quit high school and go to work. With help from his Tammany Hall precinct captain Jimmy got a job on a dredge. For three years he helped pump 6,000,000 cubic yards of sand from Jamaica Bay to connect the islands and raise the airport site to sixteen feet above the high tide mark. That was his day job. At night he attended Brooklyn Technical High School; the school he dropped out of after his sophomore year. After three years of night school he finally obtained a high school diploma.

Ceremonies attended by 15,000 people for the formal opening of the field were held on May 23, 1931. Amid much publicity Admiral Byrd, Mayor and Mrs. Walker and Mrs. Floyd Bennett arrived to formally dedicate the field. And so it was that Floyd Bennett Field came into existence and Jimmy Carson lost his day job.

The field was named after New York's favorite aviator, Floyd Bennett, who lived in Brooklyn. A naval aviator since 1917 Bennett served aboard the USS Richmond where he met Admiral Richard E. Byrd. In 1926, Byrd and Bennett made history when they were the first men to fly over the North Pole. Both men were awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. Byrd and Bennett made plans for a second flight over the South Pole. In 1928 the crew of the Bremen, attempting a non-stop flight from Europe, was forced down on Greenley Island, Quebec. Despite a high fever, Bennett took off from Detroit to attempt a rescue. At Murray Bay he was stricken with influenza but refused to turn back. Bennett died of pneumonia before the second polar flight. He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery. Admiral Byrd dropped a stone from Bennett's grave over the South Pole to honor his friend.

High above Floyd Bennett Field, formation and stunt flights by army and navy planes thrilled the dedication ceremony crowd. When Jimmy, who was in the crowd, looked into the sky on Saturday, May 23rd he decided to become a pilot. Monday morning he went to the army recruiting station and learned that he needed some college before he could apply for pilot training. Not easily discouraged, Jimmy went to the navy recruiting center and found the navy had the same stringent requirement.

Without the financial means to attend college, Jimmy read every book he could find on aviation and haunted Floyd Bennett Field for a job. Eventually, Phil Sloan, a crippled pilot turned mechanic took him on as a helper for five dollars a week. As time went by Jimmy learned to repair engines, weld, build wooden ribs and splice cables. As often as possible he traded his labor for flight instruction.

Unfortunately, in the thirties, five dollars a week was not enough to house, clothe and feed two people. Jimmy's mother took in washing in order to pay the landlord and the iceman. Jimmy tried to find a night job but they were few and far between in the midst of the Depression. As his father fought in France during World War I, Jimmy made inquiries at the Legion. The bartender gave him the phone number of a bootlegger who furnished the booze the Legionnaires drank. In spite of his mother's protestations Jimmy called the bootlegger.

Jimmy was nervous when he went to the St. George Hotel for his appointment with Big Jim Gallagher. After he entered Gallagher's suite, he was patted down then ushered into the bootlegger's office. The big man standing by the window was six feet tall, weighed over 200 pounds and looked like an Irish politician. An ex-soldier, Gallagher grew up in the Flatbush area. He was hard as nails on the outside but was a soft touch for Flatbush veterans and their families. The boy who stood in front of his desk was in his late teens, lean, a shade under six feet and had a shock of blonde hair. He walked toward Jimmy and extended his hand, I take it you're Frank Carson's boy.

Yes, Mr. Gallagher.

If I remember right, your dad served with the First Division.

That's right, sir.

What can I do for you?

I need a night job, Mr. Gallagher.

I was told you work at the airport.

I work as a mechanic but can't get along on what they pay me.

What do they pay you?

Five dollars a week.

Why don't you ask for a raise?

My boss, Phil Sloan, can't afford it. Phil can't even afford a room and sleeps in the hangar.

Why don't you look for another job?

I'm learning to fly and the barnstormers at the field can't afford to hire anybody.

If you work for me you're liable to end up in the pokey. I don't think that's the type of job you want.

I don't want to do anything crooked.

I know a couple of guys in Oyster Bay that own two Jennies—they may have something.

Where's Oyster Bay, Mr. Gallagher?

It's on the Island. You have to take the Long Island Railroad to get there.

That's too far from the airport. Thanks anyhow, Mr. Gallagher.

Look kid, I'll try and find you something. Call me next week—how are you fixed for dough?

I've got subway fare.

Here's ten bucks to tide you over.

I didn't come here for a handout, Mr. Gallagher.

Handout my ass it's a loan. Pay me back when you can afford it.

A week later Jimmy phoned Gallagher. He was surprised when Gallagher told him he had a job and to check in with Artie at the Legion. That evening, Jimmy met with Artie who turned out to be the manager of the clubhouse.

Big Jim recommended you, kid. I need somebody Friday and Saturday nights to wait on tables and help clean up when the party is over. Can you handle that?

Sure can, sir.

You don't have to call me sir, I was a corporal. Call me Artie.

Yes... Artie.

Aren't you going to ask how much it pays?

No... I mean yes.

Three bucks a night plus tips. One other thing, Big Jim says you're to stay away from the broads, booze and the slots.

What time do you want me to start?

Check in with me between six-thirty and seven. Wear dark pants, a white shirt and dark tie. I'll furnish the jacket.

His first day on the job, Jimmy checked in early with Artie and was given a starched white jacket to wear over his Sunday pants and shirt. He was surprised that booze was served in the members' bar even though it was against the law. He also noted that the wall was lined with nickel slot machines. Jimmy waited on tables in the large dining room. At midnight, after the band and guests left, he piled chairs on top of the tables and mopped the floor. After three weeks on the job Jimmy paid Gallagher back the ten dollars.

Most nights Jimmy made five or six dollars. He insisted that his mother stop taking in washing. Jimmy's tips usually ranged from a dime to a quarter but there were exceptions. Gallagher occasionally came to the hall on Friday or Saturday nights accompanied by a group of men and women. After they left, there was always a dollar tip by each man's seat. One Friday night Gallagher and two well-dressed men came into the hall. Jimmy thought it strange that neither Gallagher nor his guests ordered booze; instead, they ordered coffee. When Jimmy went into the bar, for another customer, the bartender said, Big Jim must be doing business tonight.

What do you mean?

Big Jim never drinks when he's discussing business.

Who are the fellows with him?

I don't know their names but they're rumrunners from Oyster Bay. They have a fleet of airplanes, trucks and ships.

How do you know that?

Look, kid, in my job you hear things. When you wait on them look for a bulge in their jackets—they're always armed to the teeth.

When Jimmy brought the tray from the kitchen to Gallagher's table he could see that each man wore a shoulder holster. When he studied their faces he identified Bill Murphy, a bootlegger, from pictures he'd seen in Hearst's Daily Mirror. From the aviation books he studied Jimmy thought he recognized one of the men as a World War I ace. When he heard Big Jim call the man Cliff, he was sure he was right. Cliff Huff was a double ace with twelve kills—he was also identified by the Daily Mirror as a bootlegger. When the band started playing Gallagher, Murphy and Huff left. And, as always, there was a dollar bill by each man's seat.

As the Air Commerce Act of 1928 was the law of the land pilot licenses were now required. It took Jimmy a while but in 1932 he finally received transport license number 428. He sometimes filled in for a hung over barnstormer on weekends by carrying sightseers for a dollar apiece. Jimmy turned all the money he collected over to the barnstormer who owned the plane. He was glad to get the free flight time. The going rate for flight time was seven dollars an hour with a flight instructor and four dollars an hour without.

In the presidential election of 1932 a Democrat defeated Hoover. After Franklin Delano Roosevelt took office, and before the year was out, Prohibition was repealed. During his frequent visits to the Legion, Gallagher knew that Jimmy wanted to buy an airplane so he could fly sightseers. When he heard that Huff had a Curtiss JN-4D for sale, he passed the word to Jimmy and offered to loan him the money. Jimmy had worked on and flown Jennies. He knew the open-cockpit, two-seat biplane had a top speed of 75 mph and was powered by an eight-cylinder, 90 horsepower OX-5 engine. Although Jimmy would have preferred a Jenny with a 150 horsepower Hispano-Suiza engine he knew the D model would be cheaper to operate. After discussing it with Phil Sloan, Jimmy decided the D model would be ideal for flying sightseers.

***

Chapter 2 ~ New York, Newark, 1933

Carrying a small satchel and borrowed money from Gallagher in his pocket, Jimmy and Phil Sloan boarded a Long Island Railroad train for the trip to Oyster Bay. At the railroad station they made a telephone call to the company that was selling the Jenny. Twenty minutes later a chain-drive, Mack truck picked them up and dropped them off at a grass strip where two Jennies were parked.

The man who met them was the pilot Jimmy saw with Gallagher at the Legion. As they shook hands Jimmy said, I'm Jimmy Carson and this is my partner Phil Sloan.

Cliff Huff, was the reply.

Mr. Gallagher said he spoke to you about the Jenny, Jimmy said.

That's right—he said to give you a good deal. You can pick any machine you want. Run them up and look them over. When you're through I'll be in the office over there, Huff said as he pointed to a large barn-like structure.

Jimmy and Sloan ran the engines and spent two hours inspecting the Jennies. What do you think, Phil?

Hell, there isn't a nickel's worth of difference between them. Both have about the same amount of hours. I like the yellow one.

That's okay with me, Jimmy replied as they walked toward the office.

A few minutes later they entered the office and found Huff rifling through a stack of papers. Which one do you like? Huff asked.

We'll take the yellow one. That was three hundred and twenty five dollars, right? Sloan asked.

For Gallagher's friends, three hundred even, Huff replied as he prepared the bill of sale.

After Jimmy gave Huff the money and received the bill of sale, they walked back to the Jenny. Jimmy removed helmets and goggles from the satchel then climbed into the rear cockpit. Switch off! he shouted to Sloan.

Sloan turned the propeller through then yelled, Contact!

After he turned the magneto switch on Jimmy hollered, Contact!

Sloan spun the propeller and the OX-5 sprang to life. After Sloan climbed into the front cockpit Jimmy checked the windsock. He taxied to the end of the grass strip, checked the magnetos and opened the throttle. From his office window Huff watched as the Jenny roared down the strip then lifted off.

Jimmy's landing at Floyd Bennett Field was uneventful. The next morning Sloan cut a stencil that read 'CARSON AIR' and stenciled the name on both sides of the Jenny. Jimmy painted a large wooden sign that read 'SEE NEW YORK FROM THE AIR FOR ONLY ONE DOLLAR.' That day Jimmy took up his first passenger. After ten minutes he landed and picked up another sightseer. By the end of the day Jimmy had earned sixteen dollars. He kept two dollars out for expenses and another seven to repay his loan then split the rest with Phil.

In the months that followed Jimmy repaid Big Jim Gallagher. With Sloan's encouragement Jimmy prepared to bid on an airmail contract. Before he bid Jimmy studied the history of the airmail service. It started in 1834 when Postmaster William T. Barry declared, ...the celerity of mail should always be equal to the most rapid transition of the traveler. Jimmy had to look up the word 'celerity' and found that it meant rapidity of motion.

Airmail service began on May 15, 1918 when Army Air Service pilots flew the first scheduled mail route between New York and Washington, D.C. A stop in Philadelphia was required as the range of the army planes was less than a hundred miles. One round trip a day was scheduled six days a week.

Before the army could haul the mail, their JN-4Ds had to be modified at the Curtiss plant on Long Island. The dual-control Jenny was built to accommodate a flight instructor and a student pilot. It needed more power, greater range and a baggage compartment before it could carry the mail. Curtiss engineers and mechanics removed the front seat and controls and added a mail compartment. They doubled the gasoline capacity and replaced the OX-5 with the more powerful 150 horsepower, Hispano-Suiza engine. After the modifications were complete, the D model's designation was changed to JN-4H. The army placed an order for twelve H models.

The first New York airmail terminal was Belmont Park, a racetrack. Bustleton Field, near the railroad station was the Philadelphia stop and Potomac Park's old Polo Grounds served as the Washington terminus. Only six army pilots were assigned the job of hauling the U.S. mail.

Three months later, August 10, 1918, the U.S. Postal Service with its own planes and pilots took over the airmail routes. In the few months the army carried the mail in 1918 their pilots completed 270 flights and carried 40,500 pounds of mail. Their total flight time amounted to 422 hours. Due to bad weather fifty-three flights made forced landings enroute. Sixteen flights made forced landings due to mechanical failure. Most flights carried something over 100 pounds of mail. While there were mishaps and numerous problems the army pilots never suffered a serious injury or fatality. This was a remarkable accomplishment considering the crude maps and instruments available at the time. The only navigation instrument available to the army pilots was a magnetic compass and it performed poorly. Their worst enemy was the weather. The best that could be said was that the mail got through most of the time and the bureaucrats deemed it a success—the army pilots thought otherwise.

On September 1, 1927, the U.S. Postal Service turned the airmail operation over to commercial operators under government contract. Jimmy was generally familiar with the history of airmail contracts from then on and knew he needed help preparing his bid. He tried to contact Big Jim Gallagher but found that federal agents arrested him a few weeks before. When Jimmy tried to contact Huff he had already fled the state one step ahead of an arrest warrant. Although he did his best the Postal Service rejected Carson Air's bid.

During 1933 Jimmy's mother died and his girlfriend dumped him; she left for California and married an actor. To make matters worse Phil Sloan's crippled leg gave out and he couldn't work anymore. Jimmy bought him out and Sloan went back to the family farm in Nebraska. Jimmy's dream of starting an airmail service came to an abrupt end.

Jimmy received a job offer to fly the mail out of Newark Airport. He thought of Floyd Bennett Field as home and was reluctant to leave. He'd only been away from New York once and that was a flight to Newark. Jimmy strapped his few belongings into the front cockpit and took off from Floyd Bennett to his new job at Newark. As a farewell gesture Jimmy circled the field and rocked his wings then turned on a compass heading toward Newark.

Enroute, he thought of the friendships he formed and events he'd witnessed at Floyd Bennett Field during the last five years. As a boy Jimmy helped build the airfield that never lived up to New York's expectations of becoming a major airmail terminal and commercial field. In an effort to wrest the airmail terminal away from Newark, the city of New York spared no expense on Floyd Bennett Field. A seaplane base was built on the southern waterfront to facilitate trucking mail to Manhattan and portions of Flatbush Avenue were rerouted and widened at considerable expense. It was all to no avail. New Yorkers, not willing to give up the fight, turned their attention to building a new airfield closer to Manhattan than either Floyd Bennett or Newark.

Rejected by the U.S. Postal Service Floyd Bennett Field became home to private pilots, barnstormers and aviation buffs. It was the scene of many record-breaking feats. The first record-breaking flight took place in 1931 when Russell Boardman and John Polando took off from Floyd Bennett and landed in Turkey setting a long distance record.

In 1932 it was the finish line for the Bendix Trophy Race that originated in Burbank, California. In that race James Hiazlip set a trans-continental speed record of ten hours and nineteen minutes. In the 1933 Bendix Race Colonel Roscoe Turner set a new cross-country record of ten hours, four minutes and fifty-five seconds.

Floyd Bennett Field was home to many women flyers. Jimmy and Phil Sloan knew them all and worked on many of their airplanes. In 1932 Ruth Nichols set an altitude record of 19,928 feet in a Packard monoplane and Annette Gipson set a speed record for aircraft weighing less than 1,000 pounds. In the 1933 Annette Gipson Race twenty-three leading aviatrixes competed for the $850 first prize; Henrietta Sumner was the winner.

Also in 1933 Maurice Rossi and Paul Codos took off from Floyd Bennett and set a new long distance record flying to Rayak, Syria in fifty-six hours. In that year Wiley Post took off from Floyd Bennett, in the Winnie Mae, and landed there after completing a solo around-the-world flight that covered 15,957 miles.

After