In our final story before Memorial Day 2025, we continue with a theme that we chose for this year, honoring flight crew members. In our first three tributes, we highlighted Cranford residents who had attained the roles of navigator, pilot and bombardier. In this story we are honoring a flight engineer. We followed each of these airmen through all phases of their arduous training, where they were tested and retested, each wondering every day if they would be eliminated from the flight program. They all defied the odds, and in what must have been a glorious day for each, they were awarded their silver wings. These Cranford men took to the skies in all parts of the globe, each making a contribution to the goal of victory in their respective conflicts. Some flew many missions, and sadly, one of them flew only one. Technical Sergeant James G. Lascelles, United States Army Air Force B-24 flight engineer and top turret gunner, never had the opportunity to tell his own story. In fulfillment of our project’s mission, we present it to you here.

Cranford Embraces TSgt Lascelles

James G. Lascelles (pronounced to rhyme with the word “tassels”) was born in Brooklyn in 1918. It was a little difficult for us to follow James throughout his early life. His parents divorced when he was young, and both of them remarried and had more children. This resulted in a blend of step-parents and half-siblings living in New York and New Jersey. The two siblings that we were in contact with or read about both adored their much older brother James. In a good portion of our Cranford 86 stories, our honorees are Cranford kids, born and bred. If they were not born in town, they moved here at an early age and went all through the Cranford school system. An obituary told us that James lived in Cranford, as an adult, for just two years prior to him entering the service in 1942. Although his military records all say that he was from New York, he must have designated his “home of record” as Cranford, and this is how his name ended up on the monument in Cranford’s Memorial Park. We are not aware of any other military memorial for James in any of the places in which he lived, so as Americans, we are glad that this serviceman did not “slip through the cracks” and that his memory will forever have a home here in Cranford.

James graduated from All Hallows High School in Bronx, New York in about 1936. Before he entered the military, James worked as a production engineer at the Sperry Gyroscope Company in Brooklyn, New York. The company’s founder, Elmer Sperry, was considered the father of modern navigation. Beginning with a navigational gyroscope, Sperry invented and produced many high-tech devices such as analog computer-controlled bombsights, airborne radar systems, and automated takeoff and landing systems. Sperry also was the creator of the ball turret gun, which was a feature of most American multi-engine bombers, including the Consolidated B-24 Liberator. Powered by electric or hydraulic systems, turret guns were rotating gun platforms which held one or more weapons, allowing the gunner to aim and fire in different directions. During WWII, the demand for Sperry’s products was great, and the company prospered.

While working at Sperry in September of 1942, James was drafted into the Army Air Force. A notice from the 1229th Reception Center at Fort Dix, New Jersey indicated that James’ group of inductees was to be transferred on October 1st, 1942 at 11:40 am. They were to meet at the “IRP” (initial rally point) wearing “O.D.s” (olive drabs). These were perhaps the first two of a long list of military acronyms that these new servicemen would have to learn. Perhaps the knowledge he gained while working on such advanced technology at Sperry, paved the way for the great responsibility that James would have as a flight engineer on a B-24 during WWII.

Training—Planes and Guns

We were at first a bit puzzled when we read that James trained at “Willow Run”. As with most American automakers in WWII, Ford Motor Company supported America’s war effort with the construction of the Willow Run aircraft plant in Michigan. Designed by 78-year-old Henry Ford and aviation legend Charles Lindbergh, age 39, Willow Run boasted multiple runways, a mile-long assembly line and an enormous capacity to mass produce aircraft. It was said that at Willow Run, assembly of a B-24 Liberator aircraft was completed at the approximate rate of one per hour.

With a little digging, we discovered that Army Air Force personnel were trained on-site at Willow Run, in dedicated classrooms and training spaces within the facility. In America, the sense of urgency was felt everywhere during WWII and that included in the production of aircraft and the training of those who could maintain them.

James was sent to Air Gunnery School at Harlingen Field in Texas. In an intensive five-week course in “flexible gunnery”, skills were developed which would enable each trainee to operate the different weapons stations on various types of bombers. Called the “Birthplace of Uncle Sam’s Aerial Gunners”, the year-round weather in south Texas permitted more than 300 days of flying each year in which to train. Days and nights at Harlingen were filled with long hours of hands-on ground and air training, and coursework. A large, white, fabric sail, carried by a jeep which sped behind a berm on the firing range, revealed who could hit a moving target. Each student’s bullets were dipped in a different color paint. After examining the colors around the bullet holes, each shooter would be scored accordingly. Progressing on to machine guns and turret operations while airborne, trainees took a step closer to what they would experience in battle as they practiced shooting a target which was being towed far behind another aircraft. At the end of training, a proud moment occurred when gunners passed their courses and achieved the required scores for both ground and air targets. They would be awarded the silver winged gunner’s badge, which signified the intense training undertaken and the hazardous duty performed by those who wore it.

Summer 1943 “Crewed Up” and Ready to Go

The final phase of training for James and his fellow airmen, before going overseas, was assignment to a training unit. In the summer of 1943, at Langley Field in Virginia, James was assigned to the 2nd Sea Search Attack Squadron. During group training at Langley, officers and instructors directed the formation of individual air crews. James was assigned to a radar-equipped B-24 in the critical position for which he had trained, flight engineer. Here, each air crew would begin to work together and form a special bond which would allow them to work effectively as a team on their aircraft. By now they knew, going forward, their lives would depend upon each other.

The Sea Search Squadron tested electronic equipment and developed techniques and tactics for anti-submarine operations. Crews also flew patrol missions over the Atlantic and searched for enemy submarines. Much of the testing performed by Sea Search was highly-classified and at times, missions included scientists from MIT, Columbia University and Bell Laboratories on board.

When their training was completed, the 2nd Sea Search Squadron, 1st Sea Search Attack Group, Crew 10 was assigned to the 43rd Bombardment Group, 63rd Bombardment Squadron, nicknamed “Sea Hawks”, to fly radar-equipped anti-shipping bombing missions in the night skies over the Pacific. 

Two Formidable Enemies—the Terrain of New Guinea and the Japanese

In early October of 1943, TSgt Lascelles went overseas with his crew to the second largest island in the world, New Guinea. We are once again reminded of the magnitude of this war and the large number of countries which were affected.

After the Pearl Harbor attack, in their quest to create a Pacific empire, the Japanese began to invade one island nation after another. In a strategic strike aimed to neutralize Australia, Japan seized New Guinea in early 1942 from the Australians. The Australians, along with American cooperation, counterattacked in earnest. The Allies gradually pushed back Japanese forces in the battle for New Guinea, one of the hardest fought in the entire war. Midway through the conflict to regain the island, General McArthur chose to avoid direct engagement with the enemy. Instead, Japanese troops were surrounded, isolated and starved, a strategy which was believed to have saved the lives of thousands of Allied servicemen. This was where the Sea Hawks and their squadron of B-24’s made their mark as they badgered and bombarded Japanese shipping convoys. In the end, more than half of the Japanese who were fighting to retain New Guinea, died from disease, untreated wounds, and starvation.

When James and his crew arrived, they were stationed at Dobodura Airfield on the northern coast of New Guinea.Their B-24 aircraft did not have a nickname and was known only by its tail number, 42-40972. The terrain and climate of New Guinea factored in to make this area one of the most treacherous battlegrounds in WWII. The island was dominated by rugged, steep mountains, some of which were three miles high. The mountains were surrounded by valleys, swamps and dense jungles. Rain, mud, intense heat and disease, combined with a lethal Japanese resistance made for a difficult and dangerous experience for these airmen.

In WWII, the B-24 carried a crew of eight to ten men, each one a specialist in their particular expertise. The crew member that knew the most about the aircraft and its engines, was the flight engineer. In a mechanical emergency, the flight commander always turned first to the flight engineer, the expert whose responsibility it was to get the problem resolved. The broad scope of a flight engineer’s knowledge ranged from his expertise as an aircraft mechanic, to having the skills required to fill in for the pilot in a critical situation, and everything in between. The engineer’s pre-flight inspection included checking engine oil and fuel levels, fuel lines and hydraulic and electrical systems. Overlooking something as simple as a loose gas cap would be disastrous. When airborne, this would result in all gas siphoning from the tank within minutes.

In flight, the engineer was in close communication with the pilots and therefore stationed directly behind them. Although cross-trained in all of the gunnery stations on the aircraft, the flight engineer was assigned to the top turret position which housed twin .50 caliber machine guns. Besides being close to the flight commander, from that location, all four engines were visible to the engineer’s watchful eye. The operation of a power turret took a delicate touch and James’ extensive training qualified him to be the one to protect the skies above his aircraft.

In a WWII narrative that we discovered, a flight engineer described take off in a B-24. From his position behind the pilots, the engineer helped to monitor the instrument panels. After being given the word from the tower to take off, the pilot pushed all four throttles equally, ensuring that one was not ahead of the other. Uneven acceleration would cause the plane to swerve left or right off the runway. As the aircraft gained momentum, the flight engineer called the airspeed. “Ten, twenty, thirty…and then with the engines really roaring to life, one hundred, one ten, one twenty”...when finally, at one hundred fifty miles per hour, the pilot pulled back on the wheel, the plane felt the air under its wings and the wheels gently left the ground. As the steady climb began, a sigh of relief was heard. Their mission had begun successfully.

While in normal flight, the flight engineer worked with the pilots to oversee numerous systems simultaneously, such as engine performance and fuel consumption. He was always on the alert for fuel leaks, potential fire hazards, stuck landing gear and any catastrophic problems resulting from flak or other combat damage. We have read accounts in which flight engineers describe manual closure of malfunctioning bomb bay doors. On a B-24, this required balancing on a narrow catwalk, seeing the ground miles below through the open doors, in below zero temperatures. Many times it was the flight engineer who made the difference whether or not the plane returned home.

Night Missions From Dobodura

Shortly after arriving overseas, James and his fellow crew members were called upon to put their months of training to the test. On November 2, 1943, under cover of darkness, their B-24 took off from Dobodura Airfield on an armed reconnaissance mission. There was bad weather in the area and it was reported that the aircraft had a faulty propeller. Flying 40 miles north of the Japanese-occupied island of New Britain, the radio operator spotted a ship. They had to take two runs at the target, but on the second time around, four bombs were released and the 6,000 ton vessel below was observed to be in flames. On this mission, for meritorious achievement while participating in aerial flight, this entire air crew, with an average age of 25, earned an Air Medal with an oak leaf cluster.

In a back-to-back mission, James and his crew took off again from Dobodura on November 4, 1943 at 6:00 pm. The B-24 was heavily armed and carried enough fuel per engine to allow for 12 hours of flying. With storm activity nearby, the B-24 was shadowing a convoy of ten ships in the Bismarck Sea. At 12:40 am on November 5, 1943, they radioed that they had delivered three direct hits on the convoy, and the target, a light cruiser, was destroyed. At 1:20 am, the crew’s radioman contacted the airfield and requested "Turn on radio range", the navigational signal which would help them find their way back to base. Hours passed, the aircraft never returned, and no further radio transmissions were received. Later that morning, another B-24 took off from Dobodura on a search mission and reported no signs of the missing plane.

The Cranford Chronicle announced that a telegram delivered to James’ father and stepmother, at 609 High Street in Cranford, informed the family, which included younger half-sister Beth, that TSgt James Lascelles was listed as “missing in action in the Pacific Theatre of War”. A long year passed before James and his entire crew were declared dead. Without a clue as to how their loved one was lost, it is hard to imagine the sorrow experienced by this family. James’ name was eventually inscribed on the Tablets of the Missing at the Manila American Cemetery and Memorial, adding further emphasis to the loss and lack of closure.

The Cranford 86 Project works with our public schools and other local groups to ensure that the stories of our 86 fallen servicemen from Cranford are shared to each new generation of Cranford residents. Cranford’s scout troops have always been exemplary in educating our youth about the sacrifices made by those who came before them. Recently Boy Scout Troop 75 made a trip to Arlington National Cemetery. Visiting “our nation’s most sacred shrine” was sure to leave an impression on these young men. Before their trip, the Cranford 86 team prepared a presentation containing information about those of our Cranford 86 who are buried there. The scouts received a booklet with each serviceman’s photo and story. At the time, we thought that we had provided a complete list. It was not until we were contacted by Russell Patt, that we learned differently. Russell and his family, residents of Mansion Terrace in Cranford, were interested in sponsoring the banner of James Lascelles, a WWII B-24 flight engineer who had lived in their neighborhood. While providing Russell and his family with information about their chosen serviceman, we were surprised to find out that TSgt Lascelles’ story did not end in 1943.

News From New Guinea

In the dark hours of the morning of November 5, 1943, two villagers from Papua, New Guinea, were hunting. They were out in the bush, a day and a half’s walk from the nearest village. Shortly after 1:20 am, the men were startled by the explosive sound of a plane crash. It soon became common knowledge among the local natives that somewhere high in the mountains above them, was the wreckage of a large aircraft. Many years later one of the hunters told his nephew about the crash and urged him to look for it. In 2002, the nephew, Robert Simau, somehow made his way up 10,800 feet, in search of the crash site. A few months later Simau walked into a government office with three deteriorated dog tags, one said “Armacost”, the other two belonged to “Eppright”, the co-pilot and navigator of James Lascelles’ lost B-24. For the wives, brothers, sisters, children, nieces and nephews of the crew members of B-24D-120-CO Liberator 42-40972, all of the years of waiting and wondering were over.

Bringing TSgt Lascelles Home

In 2003, a team from the Joint POW/MIA Accounting Command conducted what amounted to a meticulous archaeological dig. In a month-long mission, the recovery team documented the recovery of aircraft parts, personal effects and human remains. The part of the instrument panel which was recovered included a clock which was stopped at 1:21, one minute after the aircraft’s last transmission, six decades earlier.

Edward Steers, James’ half-brother, provided the DNA sample which enabled the identification of James’ remains. On July 19th 2006, TSgt James G. Lascelles  was buried with full military honors, in an individual grave at Arlington National Cemetery. His brother Edward was in attendance. A rosette was placed next to James’ name on the Tablets of the Missing in Manila, indicating that he had been found. Sadly, Edward Steers passed away in 2024, but his thoughts were recorded in a news article from 2006. “I’m feeling very thankful today. I never thought they would have found my brother”. Only 5 years old when James died, Edward recalled staring up at his 6-foot-tall brother, who took him by the hand for a trip to the movies. Edward Steers named his only son after James Lascelles. In Edward’s 2024 obituary, James was mentioned, an indication that he was held in his younger brother’s heart for all of these years.

The sky above New Guinea was a very dangerous place in which to serve in WWII. It is said that the air crews feared the terrain there worse than they did the enemy. According to military experts, there are currently about 200 WWII crash sites which exist in this area that have yet to be discovered. James Lascelles, age 24, was sent to this remote region of the world to serve our country and it took his life within three weeks. He served us with honor and it was a privilege to learn and be able to preserve this young man’s story.

The Cranford 86 Project would like to acknowledge the work being done by the website pacificwrecks.com. Pacific Wrecks contains a wealth of information about B-24D-120-CO Liberator 42-40972, its crew, missions and recovery. This was a great asset to our team as we honored James Lascelles.

Thanks go out to the Patt family of Cranford for their sponsorship of James Lascelles street banner.