Bong

Whatever the great U.S. ace race might be doing to fighter pilots' teamwork against the enemy, it was making news and new heroes. Out in front last week was a blond, crinkle-eyed, corn-fed youngster from Poplar, Wis. Over Hollandia, New Guinea, the Army Air Forces' stocky, 23-year-old Captain Richard Ira Bong had smashed Captain Eddie Rickenbacker's 26-year-old record* by knocking down his 26th and 27th Jap aircraft.

Day after he put down his Lockheed Lightning on his home base, Dick Bong became a major. He had also a clear claim to the title "U.S. ace of aces," which had been claimed earlier by an unwary Eighth Air Force public relations officer in England for Mustang Pilot Don S. Gentile (TIME, April 17). As Captain Gentile's score of 30 includes seven grounded aircraft, there were no cries from England when Douglas MacArthur proclaimed Dick Bong the top U.S. man of the air.

In New York, Eddie Rickenbacker announced that he was making good his promise to the first over-26 fighter in the Australian Theater--a case of Scotch.

The superintendent of the Iowa Anti-Saloon League urged Eddie Rickenbacker "to consider the far-reaching implications of your press endorsement of whiskey for American flyers." Douglas MacArthur said he did not consider "liquor or spirituous wines as appropriate recognition for Bong's deeds."

This baffled Rickenbacker, who told newsmen MacArthur had matched his offer 16 months ago with the promise of a case of champagne. But it probably made no difference to Bong--he is a teetotaler anyhow.

To the Desk. Major Bong had other worries. He was now assigned to the desk job he had been trying to escape for months. But few thought he would be deskbound for long.

One of a Wisconsin farmer's brood of eight, he is well disciplined, modest, has little to say either about his life in little Poplar (pop. 462)--where he sang in the church choir, played the clarinet at young people's gatherings--or his fabulous exploits in the air. Other pilots rate him as daring, imaginative, a dead shot, know that he cannot be kept out of combat long.

This week fellow airmen saw Dick Bong pottering about his P-38, Marge, surveying the oversize photograph of his girl, Marge Vattendahl, blazoned on its side. Slim, 20-year-old Marge is a senior at Superior (Wis.) State Teachers' College, met Dick last November when he was home on leave and a guest at the college (where his job was to crown the homecoming queen). Dick took Marge home that night, dated her from then on. When he went back to action, her picture and name went on his famed Lockheed.

Now the picture was battle-worn, oil-flecked. Major Bong told reporters he was going to put on a brand-new photo. Then the P-38 would be ready to fight again.

Meanwhile, the Eighth Air Force's Gentile, a crack airman who had been embarrassed by his command's extraordinary method of making top man of him, worked might & main to run his score of ships shot down in the air from 23 to the mystic 26.

Last week, returning from a raid, Don Gentile put his Shangri-La down on his home field, apparently overshot and tried to go around again. Just beyond the field's edge he cracked up, was able to walk away from the crash. But that was all the combat flying he would do for a while. The Eighth Air Force ordered Ace Gentile to take a rest.

* Twenty-five official and one shot down behind the German lines which was not confirmed.

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