Project 9: The Birth of the Air Commandos in World War II

Chapter 11

111 • • • Chapter 11 Chapter 11 In New Delhi, where he had gone ahead of the Project 9 team, Col. Philip Cochran looked around the table at the stern unsmiling faces of the high brass of the China-Burma-India theater of operations. He was thirty-three, a battle-tested fighter pilot, and his orders came directly from the commander of the Army Air Forces. No one at the table outranked his boss. Still, Cochran looked years younger than his age, and he was far too self-confident to suit many of the British and American generals gathered at the newly formed South-East Asia Command headquarters. Cochran had brought news of changes to the original Quebec Conference plans to aid Brigadier Wingate and his Chindits, and these changes did not sit well with some of the chiefs of staff to Admiral Lord Mountbatten, supreme commander of SEAC. Cochran was getting his first taste of the in-fighting that Project 9—now called 5318th Provisional Unit (Air)—would encounter. Mountbatten sat at the head of the long oiled teak table in his headquarters in the Secretariat, an imposing red-and-gray stone building on Raisina Hill in New Delhi. The building was actually one of two in a government complex, bookends of monumental late British Raj style, three stories high, with arched doorways and topped with chhatris, the pierced domes so integral to Indian architecture. In the SEAC office high ceilings held the afternoon heat, and Cochran felt a trickle of sweat run down his back. He held the gaze of the beribboned brass, however, despite his racing pulse. To Mountbatten’s right was Joe Stilwell, the 112 • • • Project 9 U.S. general and deputy supreme commander of SEAC, glaring through his steel-rimmed glasses. Gen. Claude Auchinleck—who had protested Wingate’s plans so vehemently to Churchill—was British commander in India and clearly still disapproved of the whole affair. Gen. Claire Chennault, now commander of the U.S. 14thArmy Air Force, appeared mildly amused. Staff officers of Gen. George Stratemeyer wore neutral expressions. So far as everyone at the table save Cochran was concerned, the original plans for Wingate to move three brigades of Special Force (as his Chindits were known officially) into Burma by land routes were still in effect. Now here was this cocky young colonel telling them that major changes would be instituted, that he would fly Special Force in by glider—and provide resupply and air support for the Chindits. Some commanders seemed to regard this as a misuse, if not outright waste, of valuable assets in a theater always at the dry end of the trough. Additionally the upstart colonel declared that the brigade, then positioned to be ferried to China and thence to walk into Burma, would instead be taken directly into Japanese-held territory by his unit’s aircraft from bases in India. “So that’s the updated plan. Any questions, sir?”Cochran directed his query to Lord Mountbatten at the far end of the table.Overhead a ceiling fan with broad woven blades gently stirred the air. It was late November 1943, but the outside temperatures were still in the mideighties.“Is it possible, Col. Cochran, for your unit to move the brigades into position in, shall we say, two weeks’ time once we start?” Mountbatten looked directly at Cochran. To the American colonel Mountbatten’s pleasant face revealed more than a trace of doubt. “Sir, we can move them in one week. Or less.” Cochran displayed the smallest of smiles, hoping it conveyed confidence. He was acutely aware that he often was accused of being brash, even cocky. “Boy, you are the first ray of sunshine we have seen in this theater for some time.” Mountbatten beamed and looked around at his chiefs of staff. Stilwell remained silent, as did Auchinleck and Chennault. “Keep us informed, Col. Cochran. Stay in close touch.”1 Cochran left the Secretariat breathing more easily. He felt for the inside pocket of his tunic and relaxed when he felt the envelope still tucked safely inside. It was his secret weapon, the armament that allowed him to face down everyone at the table. Cochran was a gambler, a pretty good poker player. But he was not playing games now. The entire project depended on Mountbatten’s complete support; the letter was insurance, he hoped, that it would be forthcoming. After leaving the Secretariat, Cochran cabled Alison, who was still in the United 113 • • • Chapter 11 States...