Fred S. Reese graduated from Polytechnic High School in the spring of 1941 in his hometown of San Francisco, California. A year later, he found himself in the Marinship shipyard as an acetylene burner and arc welder building Liberty Ships.
He entered the U.S. Army Air Corps as a Drill Instructor and a Physical Training Instructor in early 1943. Fred was recommended to attend Officer Candidate School (OCS) in Miami Beach, Florida. He was a part of Squadron 15, which won the Best Squadron award in their class. Fred was commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant in February 1944.
2nd Lieutenant Fred Reese arrived in India in August of 1944 and reported to his unit in September. He reported to the Assam Air Depot in Chabua, India, and he served as an Adjutant, Supply Officer, Provost Marshall (Military Police), Technical Supply Officer, and Administrative Officer. As a Supply Officer, which was his main job, he directed and supervised the requisition, storage, maintenance, and issue of Army Air Forces supplies and equipment, instructed and trained personnel in the storage and maintenance of equipment, supervised the issue of supplies and equipment used in the maintenance of aircraft, and operated heavy equipment such as mobile cranes, bulldozers, and road scrapers.
Outside of the main airbase, which was quite a large port, there were small Air Force camps in the jungle near the base that Fred would supervise and check in on. In their free time the men went on hunting trips in the nearby Dibru Forrest. They encountered many exotic game and took down a 650 lb. Sambar Deer.
The mission of the Air Bases in the Assam region of India was to assist pilots in “Flying the Hump”, a route of getting supplies through the dangerous Himalayan Mountains to China to aid them in fighting the Japanese Army. The Assam Air Depot in Chabua, India, was one of the key bases where pilots flew to China.
Fred returned to San Francisco, California after over almost two years overseas. He returned to his wife and young daughter.
Papers written by Fred Reese based on his service
FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF BRITISH INDIA
“India: The word spread throughout our ship like a grease fire fanned by a brisk March wind. To several thousand servicemen aboard the U.S.S. General Sherman, the realization that we were nearing the end of our long sea voyage was a more than welcome relief. After forty-six days of monotonous ship-board life, we would soon have an opportunity to see for ourselves, this vast and mysterious land of ancient splendor. Many of us had read of India in stories such as "The Bengal Lancers", and most of us knew that Agha Khan received his weight in gold and jewels as a gift from his subjects on his birthday each year. Those of us who were familiar with such stories assured our companions that a
land of medieval splendor and adventure awaited us and that the disappointment of not getting into combat would be compensated for by the fascinating adventures we would surely experience.
Our exhilaration was short-lived. Excitement which had reached a feverish pitch, slowly changed to disillusionment. The clear blue water of the ocean suddenly disappeared and our ship seemed to be struggling through a sea of mud, dotted with thousands of small sailing vessels and debris. Twilight slowly settled around the ship as it inched its way toward a berth in the Bay of Bombay. As we drew close to shore, instead of the usual seagulls, hundreds of ugly black birds, and buzzard-like creatures circled overhead. The Hooghly River emptying into the bay, appeared to be sweeping away the garbage and filth of a nation. We watched horrified as several decaying bodies floated by, each with one of the ugly black birds perched upon it.
Ghost-like figures appeared on the pier, unmoving and clothed in shroudlike apparel. Upon closer observation, we could see that these figures were alive and human. Small brown faces peered out from under their filthy shrouds and each figure could be seen to be continually scratching. As we stared unbelievingly at this collection of half-human creatures and thought of the bodies that had floated by, our feelings of disillusionment changed to disgust. This was not the India we had heard about. Certainly, the writers who had described it, could not have witnessed firsthand the sights we had seen.
Although we later saw more pleasant sights and experienced some interesting experiences, I believe that these first impressions will always be foremost in our minds when we think of India.”
POINT OF NO RETURN
"Many of us, no doubt, have been in a situation where we felt that to go forward or backward was a sure disaster. I reached such a "point of no return" deep in the middle of a jungle in Upper Assam, India. I shall never forget this terrifying experience.
During World War II, I was assigned to an Air Force unit at Chabua, India. One of the few recreational activities available to me was the opportunity to hunt in the Dibru Forrest, a huge game preserve. Although known as a forest, this preserve was a steaming jungle full of wild animals and half-wild humans. The game was plentiful but not always easy to obtain. Sense of
direction could quickly be lost if one should step off into the jungle from one of the few marked trails, and the collection of hundreds of leeches on one's body was always the result of such a venture.
On a particularly murky, steaming day shortly before the end of the monsoon season, I had to be in this green wilderness with two companions on a dove hunting trip. We had discovered a comparatively cleared area in which to hunt and out of nowhere came the inevitable native boys, eager to fetch the birds for us as they fell. The hunting was particularly good that day and I became so engrossed that I did not realize that I was getting further and further from my companions. As the day wore on, I suddenly realized that I had not heard the booming of my companions' guns for some time.
Taking stock of my situation, I became more than a little concerned. Here I was, in the middle of a forbidding jungle in which I had seen evidence of more than one dangerous animal, alone except for the company of a small native I did not trust and whose language I could not speak. I immediately tried to convey to the boy that I wanted to return to my companions.
After a considerable amount of arm waving and "pidgin English", I felt that I had succeeded. He motioned to me to follow him and set off in the direction I presumed was the way out of the jungle. Eventually, a trail materialized under my feet and I quickened my step. Although the sun could barely be seen through the thick vegetation, I could sense that evening was fast approaching. The boy had dropped behind me and I soon discovered that he had disappeared from the trail.
Proceeding down the trail, I noticed that it had become quite wide, wide enough to allow passage of an automobile with ease. The further I went the more worn the trail seemed to become. I thought to myself that surely I had stumbled upon some ancient pathway used by the ancestors of the natives to make their way through the dense jungle. The trees bordering the trail seemed to be getting larger and closer together and the vegetation seemed to seal off any exit from the trail. I had not been paying much attention to animal signs as I hurried along, intent on getting out of the jungle before dark, but I began to notice large piles of dung here and there along the trail. When the significance of these dung piles came to me I could feel a chill come over my body and a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach.
To my horror, I realized that what I had assumed to be a native path was a trail used by wild elephants. I had seen several groups of wild elephants in the jungle on other trips but always from a safe distance. I had also seen the remains of entire native villages which had been destroyed by them. Now I was on one of the turn backs and I did not know how far from the other end of it. I could feel panic gripping me as I realized that if a family of elephants should happen along, I had no place to go to get out of the way. The trees and vegetation bordering the trail were impenetrable and there was not enough room on the trail for both the elephants and me.
I was soon running at top speed, the pounding of my heart sounding to my ears like the sound made by a quickly moving elephant. How far I ran, I will probably never know. Somehow I managed to reach the end of the trail, only to be faced with what appeared to be a grass-filled swamp. The trail became much narrower instead of ending as I thought and I sighed with a sense of relief, knowing that no elephant had traveled on this part of the trail. Almost immediately the trail dropped lower into the grassy area and the grass was soon towering over my head. New fears were aroused in me. I had often heard this type of grass referred to as "tiger grass". Was there some slinking creature waiting along the trail to pounce on me?
I had never thought of the human voice as sounding beautiful but the sound of voices I soon heard ahead of me, were the most beautiful sounds in the world to me. The trail curved sharply and erupted into the clearing I had started from earlier in the day. There sat my companions, talking and laughing as though nothing had happened. Well, I suppose nothing had happened, although in my imagination I had been trampled by elephants and chewed to bite by tigers.”
MEETING WITH A PRINCE
“Maharaj Kumer of Kutch, India, was the imposing title of the man who spoke to me. He was the Prince and heir to the throne of an independent Indian state. I doubt that many have had a more interesting experience than my meeting with this member of Indian royalty.
The meeting took place during a particularly dull poker game at the Bombay Country Club in Bombay, India. As a commissioned member of Uncle Sam's World War II overseas forces, I was privileged to use the facilities of this club along with officers of the British Army. The club offered such recreational opportunities as swimming, cricket, and tennis but we Americans spent most of our leisure time playing that good old American game of poker. While losing my shirt in one of these games, my attention was drawn to an onlooker whose expression indicated that he was completely baffled by the game.
He appeared to be a young Indian man in his early twenties and I assumed that he was a businessman relaxing on his day off. There was something unusual about him, but to this day I have never been able to remember what it was. He was large and athletic looking, standing well over six feet in height and weighing over two hundred pounds. His face sported glasses and a friendly smile. He wore the typical British afternoon clothing of a loose-fitting pair of flannel slacks, a polo shirt, and a pair of leather sandals. It was not long before I found it necessary to bow out of the game, and I took the opportunity to seek him out.
I had always wanted to learn more about the people in this land of India but had not had the opportunity. Feeling that there was a bright-looking young fellow who should be able to offer some factual and interesting information, I proceeded to engage him in conversation. Remarking that I had noticed his interest in the game, I explained the procedure and rules to him.
Several times during our conversation, brightly costumed native "bearers" approached and offered refreshments. On each of these occasions, I was fascinated by a curious ritual performed by them. After placing their tray on the table in front of us they would hold their hands together against their chests as though in prayer and would bow their heads. When taking the trays away they would bow their heads and back away. Not wanting my companion to know how little I knew of the customs of his country, I hesitated to ask the meaning of the ritual. Eventually, I could no longer contain myself and I asked him about it. It was then that I learned that my businessman was a prince of the Kingdom of Kutch, an independent state on the western coast of India.
During our conversation, which was soon joined by my companions, the Prince explained many of the customs of the country and after much prodding gave us some information about himself. At the age of twenty-three, he was Minister of State for his father the Maharaja. Educated in England, he had developed an interest in tennis and was considered one of the best players in India. He was in Bombay on a combination business and shopping trip and had brought with him, his wife and a retinue of fifty persons to look after their needs and guard them. We later learned that the railroad cars which they arrived in were his own and were used to transport him and his retinue on visits to neighboring states. The cars were completely equipped with the most modern of conveniences.
His father was the absolute ruler of two million subjects in a state that coined its own money. Most Indian states were not accorded this privilege by the British who were then in control of the country. The Prince insisted that we tell him of our country and its customs and stated that he intended to visit the United States after the war. He seemed impressed by the fact that our military officers seemed to be so much younger and friendlier than the British and expressed the desire to meet with us again.
A few days later we again met the Prince at the club. With him was his wife, the Maharanee, a picture of Indian royalty. Dressed in a dazzling bright blue gown with a gold silk saree, she seemed out of place, the Prince who wore casual British-type clothing. The Princess at first was very shy and held herself in reserve rye, but it was not long before our easy and free American manner brought her out of her shell. She was soon laughing heartily as we related some of our experiences and before long she was telling us things about herself that she had never told to strangers before.
Despite their position and wealth the Prince and Princess were not happy. Their marriage, which had occurred on her fourteenth birthday (she was nineteen at the time of our meeting), had been arranged when she was born. Happily, the two were well-suited to each other, and they had found a life of love. They had two daughters who were the light and life of the Princess. "She-devils" she called them. To that time they had produced no sons, and this was the cause of their unhappiness. In accordance with the customs of their country, the Prince had to father a son in order to maintain the line of inheritance to the throne. If the Princess did not bear him a son before another year he would have to take a new wife, who would It was evident that the Princess felt that she had said too much on the subject and she quickly changed the conversation. She stated that she had come on the trip with her husband to shop for a few trinkets and welcomed us to accompany her on a shopping tour the following day. We accompanied the two of them to several stores and witnessed much bowing on the part of all natives with whom they came in contact. The Princess purchased jewelry and silks -"trinkets"- to the tune of fifteen thousand rupees or five thousand dollars.
Our last meeting with the Prince and his wife came at a dinner to which they had invited us. The Princess herself had personally directed the preparation of a typical Indian meal which was served by a small army of "bearers". There must have been at least a dozen courses and my tongue was soon afire from the curry and spice which were common to such meals. As a token of thanks we managed to surprise them by introducing them to a good old-fashioned American deep-dish apple pie. One of my companions had somehow secured a can of apples and after much sign language, we managed to instruct the Indian chef in the preparation of a delicious dessert which was enjoyed by our hosts.
It was at this last meeting that the Prince invited me to visit him at his palace and to accompany him on a tiger hunt. I looked forward to the trip for many months and was eagerly preparing for it until I was taken sick with Infectious hepatitis. I never met the Prince again but upon my return home after the war I found that the Princess had written a very friendly letter to my wife and had sent her several valuable pieces of jewelry as a token of friendship. I have often wondered if the Princess ever had a son and how the changing political situation has affected the Prince and his subjects. I shall ever be thankful to both of them for brightening an otherwise uneventful stay in India.”
