Marine Pilot Served In South Pacific During WWII
July 28, 2016 at 4:25 p.m.
Editor's note: This is part of a series of interviews with World War II veterans. The articles will continue in each day's edition until May 28, prior to the World War II Memorial Dedication and Recognition Day, May 29.
"This is my favorite bird - the Corsair," said Walter Panchison, as he brought a model of the aircraft in for a smooth landing on top of his desk. The Marine flew the distinctive gull-winged, single-engine plane in the South Pacific during World War II.
Panchison, originally from Pennsylvania, now lives at Hoffman Lake. He enlisted in the Corps as a private and retired 29 years, 11 months and one day later, in 1969, as a colonel. During those three decades he was a member of the smallest unit of the smallest branch of the military - a fighter pilot for the U.S. Marine Corps.
After graduating from high school in 1937, Panchison enlisted in the Corps with the idea of attending Annapolis. By the time he applied at the academy, he was getting too old.
His dream to attend flight school was realized in 1943 when, as a master sergeant, he received his wings. He became a member of the "Flying Peons" VMF-334, the USMC's humorous reference to non-commissioned fliers.
During World War II, he flew out of the Marshalls and Marianas islands and off Guam, stationed at air bases there. He flew more than 50 missions in the South Pacific.
"I'm pretty much a milk-run Marine. I gave a lot of close air support to a lot of troops," he said.
"As I came in to various areas, the worst of the air wars were over. You had to be in the right place at the right time to encounter any Japanese aircraft. The only time I saw Japanese to speak of was after the war when we were occupying Japan.
"We always had casualties and you never get over them. You sleep next to a guy one night in a tent somewhere and the next night they're gone."
Panchison brings down another figure from a case filled with memorabilia: a bronze-colored statue of a typical World War II pilot. It has goggles secured to a helmet, a square "fanny pack" parachute and a knife strapped to one leg. A cigar is firmly secured between the figure's teeth. The only paint on the pilot is a bit of white used to indicate the stogie's ashes.
About those cigars.
Panchison was hit by ground fire once while carrying a napalm tank and small rockets. The hit scored under the Corsair's left wing, rupturing hydraulic lines and manual lines for stores.
"I couldn't get rid of napalm, so I bailed out over water, ejected. I was in the water about six hours from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. The cruiser that picked me up, the USS Cassin, was attacked at Pearl Harbor. She was written off as damaged beyond repair. Yet she picked me up in '45.
"The funny thing is I never smoked before that, and the doctor asked if I cared for a cigarette." The nerve-wracked pilot took one.
"Back at the squadron, they were happy to see me again. One guy asked me if I'd like another cigarette. The someone said, 'Panch, you don't need a cigarette, you need a cigar.' I used to smoke a box a week."
He quit the habit decades later when he had a stroke.
He flew with VMF 225 in Guam and VMF 441, the "Black Jacks" squadron, in Okinawa and Japan. The Black Jacks were the first squadron to go into Japan right after surrender.
"My first occupation duty was in Okinawa. I was very, very fortunate. It's every young man's desire, as as a young officer, to stay with an active squadron, with the troops. I was fortunate to stay at the squadron level for 14 years. I became an LSO - landing signal officer - on a carrier. And if I wasn't with a squadron, I was with a group with squadrons."
The LSO stands at the back of the carrier with flags, bringing in the planes. They're all pilots, qualified in the field.
"It was hard for a shy farm boy. I learned fast."
In World War II and during the Korean War, a squadron consisted of 24 planes and 30 to 34 pilots. As the planes became more capable, larger and more expensive, the number in a squadron was knocked back to a dozen.
The Corsair, the FU4, had its nose up in the air to accommodate the 16-foot-in-diameter prop, which spun from a massive 2,450 horsepower engine. The Japanese nicknamed the plane "Whistling Death" because of the engine's sound
The craft was featured on a television show, "Black Sheep Squadron." The original Black Sheep, VMF-214, were led by the legendary Marine ace Gregory "Pappy" Boyington during World War II.
Panchison flew with the Black Sheep too, although it was after the war ended, and just one of a number of tours he had while serving the USMC for nearly 30 years.
He served aboard the USS Oriskney as an LSO and learned to land Corsairs on her deck.
Because of its upturned nose, the Corsair pilot came at a carrier or landing strip sort of sideways.
"It's a real challenge to land because you had to look out the side of the cockpit then straighten it out coming in on a carrier. It's the crux of all flying. We would take off with a load of gear, or ordnance, aboard and land day and night."
In Korea (with VMF 311) he flew "the last of the gunfighters, the F8U-2N Crusader, was the last to have guns and carry missiles. It acquitted itself quite well in Vietnam, too."
He was "traded" to the United Kingdom for a while, participating in an ongoing program with the Royal Air Force's Trinidad Squadron.
"Then it came the time to pay my debt with staff duty and administrative commands," he said of his desk job at Marine Corps headquarters. He was operations officer of the Third Marine Division, a tour he described as very rewarding.
To maintain his expertise at navigation, he's flown the country.
His hearing is shot from flying Phantoms, where pilots sat between the two engines. "They put out high frequency sounds you weren't aware of.
"If I could serve right now, I'd be back with them. But I was taking a seat I could no longer fill," he said of the stroke in 1969 that caused speech problems. "I was in administration and did a lot of training. A Marine that can't talk is a real handicap.
"I was listening to General Myers talking to the troops in Baghdad. He made a point that is often overlooked by most Americans. Not only the man in uniform overlooked but so are the families back home. Are all part of the military. You have to have left a family at home, your wife as a surrogate father, to know what it's like. My wife, Portia, of 61 years, bore three children while I was gone and was the father while I was gone. The families do not get credit for supporting what the men are doing overseas. We realize more and more what they offer. More and more we realize what they offer."
To make that family connection, Panchison once made a call from the South Pacific. It was a commercial call routed to a local ham radio operator. It cost $44 for a minute and a half.
When his grandson was stationed in Baghdad, he called often and used e-mail to communicate regularly.
"My first tour of duty after boot camp was Quantico, my last tour of duty was in Quantico, where I staffed with a general I served with on Okinawa. My last resting place will be in the National Cemetery at Quantico ... when the times comes." [[In-content Ad]]
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Editor's note: This is part of a series of interviews with World War II veterans. The articles will continue in each day's edition until May 28, prior to the World War II Memorial Dedication and Recognition Day, May 29.
"This is my favorite bird - the Corsair," said Walter Panchison, as he brought a model of the aircraft in for a smooth landing on top of his desk. The Marine flew the distinctive gull-winged, single-engine plane in the South Pacific during World War II.
Panchison, originally from Pennsylvania, now lives at Hoffman Lake. He enlisted in the Corps as a private and retired 29 years, 11 months and one day later, in 1969, as a colonel. During those three decades he was a member of the smallest unit of the smallest branch of the military - a fighter pilot for the U.S. Marine Corps.
After graduating from high school in 1937, Panchison enlisted in the Corps with the idea of attending Annapolis. By the time he applied at the academy, he was getting too old.
His dream to attend flight school was realized in 1943 when, as a master sergeant, he received his wings. He became a member of the "Flying Peons" VMF-334, the USMC's humorous reference to non-commissioned fliers.
During World War II, he flew out of the Marshalls and Marianas islands and off Guam, stationed at air bases there. He flew more than 50 missions in the South Pacific.
"I'm pretty much a milk-run Marine. I gave a lot of close air support to a lot of troops," he said.
"As I came in to various areas, the worst of the air wars were over. You had to be in the right place at the right time to encounter any Japanese aircraft. The only time I saw Japanese to speak of was after the war when we were occupying Japan.
"We always had casualties and you never get over them. You sleep next to a guy one night in a tent somewhere and the next night they're gone."
Panchison brings down another figure from a case filled with memorabilia: a bronze-colored statue of a typical World War II pilot. It has goggles secured to a helmet, a square "fanny pack" parachute and a knife strapped to one leg. A cigar is firmly secured between the figure's teeth. The only paint on the pilot is a bit of white used to indicate the stogie's ashes.
About those cigars.
Panchison was hit by ground fire once while carrying a napalm tank and small rockets. The hit scored under the Corsair's left wing, rupturing hydraulic lines and manual lines for stores.
"I couldn't get rid of napalm, so I bailed out over water, ejected. I was in the water about six hours from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. The cruiser that picked me up, the USS Cassin, was attacked at Pearl Harbor. She was written off as damaged beyond repair. Yet she picked me up in '45.
"The funny thing is I never smoked before that, and the doctor asked if I cared for a cigarette." The nerve-wracked pilot took one.
"Back at the squadron, they were happy to see me again. One guy asked me if I'd like another cigarette. The someone said, 'Panch, you don't need a cigarette, you need a cigar.' I used to smoke a box a week."
He quit the habit decades later when he had a stroke.
He flew with VMF 225 in Guam and VMF 441, the "Black Jacks" squadron, in Okinawa and Japan. The Black Jacks were the first squadron to go into Japan right after surrender.
"My first occupation duty was in Okinawa. I was very, very fortunate. It's every young man's desire, as as a young officer, to stay with an active squadron, with the troops. I was fortunate to stay at the squadron level for 14 years. I became an LSO - landing signal officer - on a carrier. And if I wasn't with a squadron, I was with a group with squadrons."
The LSO stands at the back of the carrier with flags, bringing in the planes. They're all pilots, qualified in the field.
"It was hard for a shy farm boy. I learned fast."
In World War II and during the Korean War, a squadron consisted of 24 planes and 30 to 34 pilots. As the planes became more capable, larger and more expensive, the number in a squadron was knocked back to a dozen.
The Corsair, the FU4, had its nose up in the air to accommodate the 16-foot-in-diameter prop, which spun from a massive 2,450 horsepower engine. The Japanese nicknamed the plane "Whistling Death" because of the engine's sound
The craft was featured on a television show, "Black Sheep Squadron." The original Black Sheep, VMF-214, were led by the legendary Marine ace Gregory "Pappy" Boyington during World War II.
Panchison flew with the Black Sheep too, although it was after the war ended, and just one of a number of tours he had while serving the USMC for nearly 30 years.
He served aboard the USS Oriskney as an LSO and learned to land Corsairs on her deck.
Because of its upturned nose, the Corsair pilot came at a carrier or landing strip sort of sideways.
"It's a real challenge to land because you had to look out the side of the cockpit then straighten it out coming in on a carrier. It's the crux of all flying. We would take off with a load of gear, or ordnance, aboard and land day and night."
In Korea (with VMF 311) he flew "the last of the gunfighters, the F8U-2N Crusader, was the last to have guns and carry missiles. It acquitted itself quite well in Vietnam, too."
He was "traded" to the United Kingdom for a while, participating in an ongoing program with the Royal Air Force's Trinidad Squadron.
"Then it came the time to pay my debt with staff duty and administrative commands," he said of his desk job at Marine Corps headquarters. He was operations officer of the Third Marine Division, a tour he described as very rewarding.
To maintain his expertise at navigation, he's flown the country.
His hearing is shot from flying Phantoms, where pilots sat between the two engines. "They put out high frequency sounds you weren't aware of.
"If I could serve right now, I'd be back with them. But I was taking a seat I could no longer fill," he said of the stroke in 1969 that caused speech problems. "I was in administration and did a lot of training. A Marine that can't talk is a real handicap.
"I was listening to General Myers talking to the troops in Baghdad. He made a point that is often overlooked by most Americans. Not only the man in uniform overlooked but so are the families back home. Are all part of the military. You have to have left a family at home, your wife as a surrogate father, to know what it's like. My wife, Portia, of 61 years, bore three children while I was gone and was the father while I was gone. The families do not get credit for supporting what the men are doing overseas. We realize more and more what they offer. More and more we realize what they offer."
To make that family connection, Panchison once made a call from the South Pacific. It was a commercial call routed to a local ham radio operator. It cost $44 for a minute and a half.
When his grandson was stationed in Baghdad, he called often and used e-mail to communicate regularly.
"My first tour of duty after boot camp was Quantico, my last tour of duty was in Quantico, where I staffed with a general I served with on Okinawa. My last resting place will be in the National Cemetery at Quantico ... when the times comes." [[In-content Ad]]