Shortly after I arrived in Tokyo, my High Security Clearance let me reassign myself to the area where enlisted men, non-commissioned officers, sergeants, lieutenants, captains and majors were scheduling all the maintenance on the aircraft and writing the work orders to send to the engine man or propeller mechanics, hydraulics technician or whatever was needed.

I took on more and more responsibility, freeing up the others. I loved having something interesting to do, and reduced the paperwork to a single-page form. Streamlining the entire process freed up a lot of time for everyone, so I was quite well-liked.

I discovered the Japanese guard working in the hanger was a master carpenter cabinetmaker. I designed a desk that was a quarter sphere; a great sweeping panel. It had telephones to all the hot stands, radios, and communication with the aircraft. It was a jewel. The surface was out of this world and the detail was magnificent. Best of all, it allowed me to sit there with all the status posts that I had put around the top of the room showing the aircraft’s number and showing all the systems. I had a system of colored pegs; a green peg meant it was pre-flight and ready to go; a red peg meant it was awaiting parts, etc. Using all the systems I designed, at a glance I could instantly give the status of all the aircraft when I was talking to a Colonel over the phone.

The insurance marker to my system was that I cannibalized one B-29. It was at the end of the runway and when I couldn’t find parts I would simply take them from the cannibalized plane. I was awfully glad that I was no longer in that squadron when the issue of identifying the missing aircraft was discovered.