SIGITAN WONGSOATMODJO

THE EARLY YEARS OF INDONESIAN AIR FORCE

 

When I still was in the Air Force, I had an experience that I wouldn’t forget as long as I live.

When Japan surrendered at the end of World War II, the Dutch tried to regain their colonial rule over the archipelago formerly called the “Netherland East Indies” that was formally changed into “Indonesia” during the Japanese occupation.

But the Indonesians were determined to defend their newly formed and sovereign state : the “Republic of Indonesia” that they have proclaimed on August 17, 1945. Therefore they fight the well equipped Dutch troops with old and inferior weapons and equipment captured from the Japanese Army and left-overs from the Dutch colonial forces when they surrendered to the Japanese.

That unforgettable experience was when I had to make a surprise attack on the enemy in the city of Salatiga, in an old flimsy aircraft, a Japanese bi-plane trainer.

The aircraft was made of wood and aircraft-linen, a fabric made exclusively for aircraft covering. This aircraft is called “Churen” that means a “basic trainer” in Japanese, but we used it as a primary trainer instead.

The date was July 29, 1947. The AURI as the Indonesian Air Force is called, had only four planes left in Jogjakarta, because since the 21st of July the Dutch Air Force repeatedly attacked every airbase we had, causing heavy losses on our side.

On July 28, The Air Force High Command, who decided to launch a counter attack called a volunteers. Three fellow pilots and I volunteered for that mission. It was decided that on July 29, before dawn, two aircraft flown by Moeljono and Bambang Saptoadji would attack the Dutch in Semarang, while another two flown by Soeharnoko and myself would attack the enemy in Salatiga.

I was to lead the attack on Salatiga. At one o’clock that morning, the mission of Bambang Saptoadji was cancelled because his aircraft, a Hayabusha fighter which had some trouble, couldn’t be readied for his flight. The mechanism that has to synchronize the machine-guns that would shoot through the plane’s rotating propellers was out of order.

So only Moeljono was left to attack Semarang. The mechanics had readied the three aircraft remaining : one dive bomber which would be used to attack Semarang and two bi-plane trainer, for Soeharnoko and myself to attack Salatiga with.

The armorers had put machine-guns in the back seats of both Moeljono’s and Soeharnoko’s planes to defend themselves against enemy fighters.

But my plane couldn’t take a machine gun because there wasn’t any mounting for it in the back seat. So my air gunner got an extra-number of incendiary bombs to throw out.

They’ve also put bomb-racks on the three aircrafts, for the big fragmentation bombs under the wings.

Because there wasn’t any taxi-way of runway lights, we were guided to our take off positions at the end of the runway by parked automobiles which had their headlights on.

To assist us in our take off, a big anti-aircraft search light was placed at the very end of the runway, behind our take off positions, to provide us with enough light on our take off run. This arrangement later provided to be a mistake that nearly cost us our lives.

At our “ready to go” signal, the search light was switched on. Instantly a very bright blue-white beam was cast along the surface of the runway, engulfing our three aircrafts with its brilliancy.

So intensely bright was the light that we were instantly blinded and couldn’t see anything at all. After several moments, when our eyes had adjusted themselves, we gradually could see the instruments in our cockpits.

Moeljono took off first then came my turn, followed by Soeharnoko as the last to go. I had no trouble with my take off run. The runway surface was splendidly illuminated for the whole length.

But my troubles started as soon as I was airborne and left the beam of light along the runway surface. The instant I left the very intense and brilliant light and climb into the darkness, I became “blind” again only with the difference that now I was not on solid ground any more but groping my way through the darkness in a bucking aircraft on full take off power without any previous experience in night flying !.

Without these additional problems, every take off is very critical for any aircraft because it has to go through a critical period right after being airborne , when speed is still so near the stalling, which is a speed at which the aircraft wouldn’t fly and just drop like a stone.

And to control this speed, I needed my eyes to watch the instrument closely, especially the speed indicator. But I was temporarily blind at those moments.

The only thing I could do was rely on my good luck while trying to fly the aircraft as best as possible by keeping the flying stick in such a position as to get a slight rate of climb, to avoid hitting the trees and the other obstacles at the edge of the airbase.

My main problem was not to climb too steep to avoid reaching the stalling-speed, while on the other hand I mustn’t let the aircraft drop and fly into the ground.

After what appeared to be a lifetime, I gradually could see my cockpit instruments again and my problem seemed to be over.

In flying an aircraft, a pilot has to refer to the horizon to keep the aircraft level. If you want to climb, you keep the aircraft’s nose at a position slightly above the horizon, and to descend, you put it below the horizon. In night flying or instrument flying when the weather is bad, you have an artificial horizon in the cockpit to replace the real horizon.

But these old Japanese aircraft, these vital instruments were missing. So I had to rely on what instruments there were in the cockpit and on my luck again.

I succeeded in controlling the aircraft and started to climb to cruising altitude without any mishap while looking for my wing-man, Soeharnoko.

We were flying without radio and we didn’t have any electrical system at all for navigation lights or anything else.

I only had a flash light and this I held out high above my head, turning its light to all directions while circling the field but to no avail, I couldn’t locate Soeharnoko’s airplane.

So I decided to go ahead and flew alone to my target, the enemy position in Salatiga.

I didn’t have any difficulty in finding Salatiga, although it was still dark. The city’s light was still on and the Dutch seemed not to have the slightest suspicion of my impending attack.

I circled once above the city to locate my target, then made my first bombing run by diving towards the target. After releasing my left bomb, I climbed again to altitude to start my second run.

But I couldn’t drop my right bomb because the release-mechanism for my right bomb broke down. The wooden handle of the release-mechanism for my right bomb broke because it was rotten I presumed.

I didn’t worry then because I still had a third handle to release both left and right bomb. So I climbed back again to altitude and started my third run.

The third handle also broke and I still had the bomb hanging under my right wing. The bomb was armed already and I know the risk I would have to take, landing with a “live” bomb hanging under my wing.

Climbing back to altitude again I circled above the city while looking for means to drop the remaining big bomb. Then I located the three steel wires running from the broken handles along the left side of my seat.

By ducking low into the cockpit, I could grab these three wires but then I couldn’t see where I was going. So I decided to make a straight and level bombing run then and pointing the aircraft’s nose toward the target, I grabbed these wires and pulled with all my strength. To my intense relief, I saw the big bomb slide forward and away from my right wing.

Then I told my bombardier to throw his five bombs as quickly as possible. On hearing this he grabbed a bomb with each hand and started throwing it right and left. He made such a comical sight that I laughed out loud, glad that my troubles were over.

Then I headed for home, diving to tree top level and made a hedge-hopping flight all the way to Maguwo. I had to be back before the Dutch fighters came. I landed safely at 06:20 and my plane was immediately brought to a nearby village to be hidden by camouflage underneath some trees.

At 07:05 the first wave of the Dutch attacks came. On their fourth and last attack for that day at about five o’clock in the evening, they shot down our transport aircraft, a C-47 Dakota who was about to land and bringing in a load of medical supplies from Singapore.

One week earlier, this aircraft was flown by Air Commodore Adisucipto and Air Vice Commander Dr. Abdul Rachman Saleh as Pilots and Lieutenant Hadisumarno as Radio Operator to penetrate the Dutch blockade of our airspace.

They took off in the middle of a dark night heading for Singapore to pick up a load of medical supplies donated by the Indian Government and to be flown back by foreign pilots as an official “mercy flight” to Indonesia. Allegedly the Dutch officials were informed of this mission.

So it was beyond comprehension why those Dutch fighter pilots were able to do that barbaric act of shooting down an unarmed transport aircraft on an official “mercy flight”.

Victims of that murderous act were :

1. Captain Pilot : Wing Commander Constantine (Australian)
2. Co-Pilot : Squadron Leader Hazelhurst (British)
3. Flight Engineer : Bhida Ram (India)
4. Mrs. Constantine (Australian)
5. Air Commodore Adisucipto (Indonesian Air Force Officer)
6. Air Vice Commodore Dr. Abdulrachman Saleh (Indonesian Air Force Officer)
7. Lieutenant Hadisumarno (Indonesian Air Force Officer)

That ill-fated aircraft was a gift from the Indian Government to Indonesian as a support to its fight for freedom.

It wasn’t even changed into Indonesian registration yet and still has the Indian registration : VT-CLA.

Soetardjo Sigit