FRED KAMMENZIND
Age: 89
Born: Oct. 7, 1921
Hometown: Bronx, N.Y.
Residence: Indio
Military branch: U.S. Army Air Corps; Eastern India Air Depot; India Burma Air Service Command; 90th Fighter Squadron
Years served: Sept. 4, 1942- Nov. 30, 1945
Rank: Staff sergeant
Family: Wife Evy (deceased); one child, Lisa Wilander of Indio; son-in-law Daryl Murphy of Indio; brother Henry Kammenzind of Illinois.
About this series
Staff writer Denise Goolsby will profile desert veterans from World War II through the end of 2010 — the 65th anniversary of the end of the war. Contact her at (760) 778-4587 or via e-mail at denise.goolsby@thedesertsun.com
Coming tomorrow
U.S. Army Air Corps veteran Michael Connery of Thousand Palms.
LEARN MORE: Read about other Coachella Valley residents who served in World War II at mydesert.com/wwii.
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U.S. Army Air Corps veteran Fred Kammenzind kept bomber and fighter planes in flying shape at the East India Air Depot in the China- Burma-India theater of war against the Japanese during World War II.
Kammenzind worked on aircraft instrumentation — the plane's “dashboard” — repairing and replacing gauges and instruments including the altimeter and bank and air-speed indicators. He also worked on the gun sights mounted on bomber planes.
Kammenzind's two brothers also served during the war — one was in the Navy and the other in the Army.
Kammenzind enlisted in the military before Uncle Sam got to him first.
“I figured the draft was coming,” he said. “I figured if I sign up, I can get into what I wanted to get into,” instead of the military deciding.
He got into the U.S. Army Air Corps and was sent to Randolph Field, Texas, for basic training, then to bomb sight school.
He received his overseas orders and was sent to the California coast, where he boarded a converted cruise ship for the two-week journey to his first destination: Hobart, Tasmania.
The ship, carrying about 1,000 men, sailed solo through the Pacific.
“The troop ship had no escort, no nothing,” he said.
When they arrived, the men weren't allowed to roam freely about the town.
Kammenzind said it was probably because the last ship full of men “wrecked the town.”
“They said, ‘You can march around the town and that's it,'” Kammenzind said.
The ship continued to Calcutta, India, then Madras, India.
While traveling to Madras, some of the men aboard looked at Kammenzind in disbelief one day while he was eating his oatmeal.
“They said, ‘You don't see the boll weevils?'” Kammenzind said. “I said, ‘So what? I'm getting me vitamins,'” he said, laughing.
They were also served rabbit instead of chicken, which some men refused to eat. But not Kammenzind. He said they tasted pretty much the same.
After departing Madras, they headed to their final destination — Eastern India Air Depot, about 150 miles above Calcutta, Kammenzind said.
The living conditions weren't too bad in India, he said.
“We had a barracks,” he said. “The only time we slept outside was when it got really hot.”
Among the aircraft that flew in and out of the base, flying food and supplies over “The Hump” — the airmen's nickname for the Himalayan Mountains — was the C-46 transport plane.
The big cargo planes delivered desperately needed supplies to troops in China, from bases in India and Burma.
This frequently flown route was treacherous. Chronic bad weather and poor visibility made flying a risky proposition.
“We called C-46s coffin planes,” he said. “A lot of the men never made it over the Himalayas.”
Sometimes aircraft limped back to the base after taking on enemy fire.
“Some of them would come back shot up,” he said.
Besides servicing aircraft, the men were also put to work assembling troop gliders.
After the gliders were put together and were ready to be moved to another air field, “We used to be able to take a ride in them,” he said. “You think the airplane was bad. These were all fabric. I felt bad for the pilots when they landed. They had to hope they hit a clear spot.”
Sometimes the glider would hit the ground awkwardly and kill the pilot and others aboard.
The huge gliders could carry a “little tank” and 40 to 50 men, he said. “They delivered the troops into battle in Burma and China.”
Kammenzind said he was struck by the poverty in India — and the disparity between the classes.
“You should have seen the Taj Mahal and the Jade Temple,” he said, flipping through an album of slightly fading photos he took of the iconic landmarks.
The people were very hungry and appreciated any extra food, no matter what shape it was in.
One time, “My mother sent a pound cake and it was all beat up in the package,” he said.
An Indian man taking care of the barracks suddenly yelled, “Don't throw it out,” Kammenzind said.
“He ate it like it was the last meal he ever had in his life.
“We used to see them washing clothes in a big mud puddle,” he said.
They spread the clothes on the ground and dried them out in the sun.
“Boy, did they bleach them right,” he said.
As for fun, “The best furlough I had was up in the Himalayan Mountains sightseeing,” Kammenzind said.
After the war, “they took all the airplanes — mostly fighter planes — piled 'em up and set 'em on fire,” Kammenzind said.
