Spooky Skies
Just in time for Halloween, a collection of aviation mysteries.
- By Rebecca Maksel
- Air & Space magazine, October 2012
Courtesy H G Mukhopadhyay.
Lucky Minnie
Is it true that animal mascots bring good luck to their squadrons? Consider this tale. “There was both sorrow and foreboding in the sultry air when Yankee airmen gathered in the cemetery of a big Pacific base,” notes the (apparently) anonymously written book 11th Bomb Group (H): The Grey Geese. “They were saying good-bye to a comrade who had flown with them on many a perilous bombing mission over Japanese territory, but who now would fly no more.”
And who was the object of this purple yet tender prose? Minnie the Mongoose, who the men of the 11th had found near their barracks during a stopover at Hawaii, while en route to Saipan, in July 1944. The men fed her canned milk with an eyedropper, and later flew her to the Marianas with them.
Minnie took to flying, reported the Los Angeles Times on January 7, 1945, resting comfortably on the flight deck during missions. She did lose consciousness when the bomber reached an altitude of 20,000 feet, but “the crew quickly revived her with oxygen.” The crew was so taken with their mascot that they named their B-24 the Flying Mongoose.
The queen of the air survived flak from the enemy, oxygen deprivation, and a misguided makeover (fearful that she would be mistaken for a rat, the crew bleached her fur with peroxide and tied a bright red ribbon around her neck). Perhaps it was inevitable that Minnie would die on the ground: On Christmas Eve, the little mongoose was run over by a jeep.
At Minnie’s funeral, “platoons of soldiers march to the cemetery behind the victim’s body,” says the 11th Bomb Group. “The rifles of a firing squad crashed in tribute. The solemn of taps followed, while bomber crew members stood by, silent and sober-faced.”
The day after Minnie died, reported the Los Angeles Times on March 6, 1945, the Flying Mongoose was scheduled to fly a mission. Its engines stuttered on the runway, and the flight was cancelled. Two days later, the bomber left the base on a mission. “The target was reached, the bombs dropped and the plane headed for home,” notes the Los Angeles Times. But the B-24 had multiple engine failures, and 15 miles from their base, the Flying Mongoose crashed into the sea. The pilot, copilot, and bombardier were killed; the rest of the crew escaped and were rescued. Coincidence? You decide.
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Comments (6)
Great story! I knew that some spiders use a strand of their silk to travel on the wind but I had no idea that they could travel to such heights.
Posted by Jim Johnson on October 26,2012 | 07:17 PM
I would bet that there are more true stories out there about aviation unit mascots. Would this be an idea for a future article?
Posted by Jim Johnson on October 26,2012 | 07:49 PM
Interesting stories! I hope that veryone has a great and safe weekend!
Posted by Mike on October 26,2012 | 08:55 PM
Catching the “spirit” of your Halloween article, as newly certified Private Pilots, eager to go...anywhere, my friend Tony and I signed out a 172 at Texas A&M Flying Club for a day trip all the way non-stop from College Station to Waco. Met up with friends from Baylor U and had enjoyable time socializing, dinner, etc. Departing an airport you are unfamiliar with after 10PM was less expectant of any challenges in that pre 9-11 world of 1987, so we flashlighted ourselves along a pitch dark ramp to our little bird for pre flight. Night flight for low timers, single engined and cross country could be thrill-inspiring enough, but when you are accustomed to crickets, distant truck-on-the-highway noise and sometimes a killdeer’s lonely cry that nocturnal airfield symphony can turn from tranquil to terror when suddenly you hear: ROAR! No, not like jet exhaust or big round engine roar. Big cat from Africa eats pilots on late night ramp, ROAR! It caught me off guard, still holding my plastic fuel sample cup. “Tony, did you just hear a…” As I turned, Tony was not to be found. I spied him in the airplane, taking cover behind the tall instrument panel. “Let’s get in the air, now!” was all he said. A succession of more ROAR followed, and each with crescendos of enthusiasm. Within moments, we were start…taxi…intentions declared…take off. We climbed into night sky, giving thanks for altitude, distance, Lycoming, not being appetizers. Later we learned that prior to the Cameron Park Zoo downtown, the Central Texas Zoological Park had exotic beasts housed off out in the middle of nowhere, near Waco Regional. It brought new meaning to Fight or Flight, for us!
Posted by Maj Hyral B (Buddy) Walker Jr, USAF on October 27,2012 | 10:05 AM
I am surprised they omitted the Ghost of Flight 401! A famous aviation ghost story of the haunting of aircraft with part salvaged from the crash of flight 401 in the Florida Everglades. Maybe next year!
Posted by Bill Greenleaf on October 31,2012 | 05:17 PM
Flight 19; there was a theory that a large quantity of gas escaped up from the ocean floor and when it mixed with the air displaced the oxygen, causing the aircrews to lose conscious and the recips to shut down. What with the shallow shale gas discoveries nowadays, that sounds plausible.
Posted by Bob Olson USAF Ret. on November 15,2012 | 05:50 PM