Major Eck Sims

Excerpt from PROTECT & AVENGE p. 114

"By the end of January, Maj. Eck Sims had completed his tour and the Eightballs celebrated the CO's good fortune in being mustered out with a much deserved trip to the States. Sims would always be remembered for his irregular military manner, but he had proven himself to be one of the most competent flying commanders in Col. Wurtsmith's Fifth Fighter Command. Sims, the oldest flying fighter pilot in New Guinea, had presided over an operation of the oldest Warhawks flown in the 5 AF inventory, and yet, his 8 FS had posted 46 victories to date, and 28 of them had been gained under his leadership."

George's Service Diary: Thurs. Jan. 14.

Thurs. Jan. 14. – On duty early, so up at 5:30, got to the line at 6:30. Had a patrol mission at 9:00, take-off at 8:30. Major Selman came down from Group; he wanted to go on a mission, so Maj. Sims led [Harold] Bud Learned’s flight and Maj. Selman led second element. An uneventful patrol, everyone got back and down with no mishaps. The weather was as clear as a bell over the mountains for a change. This was my first completed mission since the 7^th, I believe.

George's Service Diary: Wed. Jan. 13

Wed. Jan. 13 – Morning off, slept till 10:30, and got up hungry as a wolf. Went on duty about 1:00 when the other shift got back from a mission. Maj. [Eck] Sims took [Tom] Farley’s place in our flight, then took the lead. We were scheduled to take off at 3:30, but it was called off. Haven’t been on a completed mission for a week or more. When I set up in my assigned ship (53) the crew chief found a bad cut in the left tire. If I had tried to take off it would probably have blown out. Bellows was lucky it didn’t go out on him when he landed. Another letter from Betty tonight, no. 3, and she reports she has a bad cold. Poor kid, I’ll bet I know what would cure that. Of course, that letter was written the last of December, so she may be better by now, I hope. I’ll bet my name will really be mud when she finds I didn’t even mention 

today being our anniversary (11 months) but when her letter arrived I was so excited the anniversary slipped my mind until I had used up all my allotted space in my letter! So I decided to put it in my next letter, with profuse apologies and explanations. Up to date there has been absolutely no sign or news of [Dick] Dennis. He was lost on Dec. 18. While returning from a normal patrol, [Earl] Kingsley was leading the flight, and climbing for altitude to get over some bad weather. As he approached a hole in the clouds at about 18-20,000, he looked back and saw the last plane, losing altitude and heading toward Kokoda. King came on home, but Dennis did not arrive, and since that day, no sign of him has ever been found.

George's Service Diary: Tues. Jan. 12

Tues. Jan.12 – On alert this morning. Up early after a rainy night, and everything was so damp it fairly dripped. Everything except the showers; no water now for two whole days. A cruiser is in (the lights went out when the generator went on the blink, so continued next day) the harbor refueling and taking on water, so the whole Moresby area is short of water. Three letters from Betty tonight, nos. 50, 1, + 2. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard from her, and it was really fine to hear from her at last. I’d been wondering if she was sick or hurt ort something, and I was getting worried.

Don "Porky" Morse

Don "Porky" Morse was a pilot in the 8th Fighter Squadron in the 49th Fighter Group. On August 23rd, 1942 Morse was awarded a single bomber kill while intercepting a bomber attack on Darwin. (Source: PROTECT & AVENGE: The 49th Figher Group In World War II)

St. Petersburg Times - November 18, 1942

(source)

George's Service Diary: Mon. Jan. 11

Mon. Jan. 11 – Another uneventful day. Had the morning off, slept till late, went on the alert at noon, with a mission scheduled for 3 o’clock. Got into our planes and had the motors started, ready to take off, when the call came that the mission was cancelled. So we went back to the shack on the hill, and sat around until 6:30, playing gin-rummy and reading. And it is a most uncomfortable shack. Just a hut built of poles, with a thatched roof, stuck way up on the side of a hill overlooking the runway. There are 4 or 5 canvas cots, and a couple of dirty old burlap hammocks. The enlisted men use it too, and make their coffee there. Package arrived from mother, containing puzzles, a harmonica, a pocket-knife, papers, a Reader’s Digest, candy, cards, and poker chips. A real nice present. Swapped my cigarette case to Morse for a tobacco pouch.