Expedition. Craycroft was in charge-”
I’m sorry. What was the Balchen Expedition?
An Arctic expedition. An attempt by air to land at the North Pole. I’ll go on, if I may?
Yes, Please do.
(Reading) “Craycroft was in charge of maintaining the two aircraft used in the successful leg of the expedition (to Nome and Point Barrow), but he did not accompany the party on the ill-fated final leg, which led to the deaths of two explorers and the loss of one aircraft; the Pole was not achieved.
“Craycroft remained in Alaska for several years, working first as a hired mechanic in Juneau, then opening his own maintenance facility at Anchorage; in the latter enterprise he was again joined by his former business partner, Ryterband, who was some six years older than Craycroft.
“In nineteen forty the U.S. Army Air Corps delivered its first defense squadrons of bomber and fighter aircraft to Alaska. A cold-weather testing facility was established at Fairbanks under the command of Colonel Everett S. Davis. Throughout nineteen forty and nineteen forty-one Harold Craycroft worked informally with and for the Davis laboratory, on a part-time basis, helping to devise cold-weather navigational techniques and solving problems caused by the extreme low temperatures of that region, in which oil would congeal and rubber turn brittle.
“At the outbreak of the war in December, nineteen forty-one, both Craycroft and Ryterband volunteered immediately for the draft. Ryterband was refused-he had a history of asthma and rheumatic fever. And until nineteen forty-four Ryterband continued to operate the Craycroft-Ryterband maintenance hangar at Elmendorf Field near Anchorage. The business went bankrupt in November, nineteen forty-four. In the meantime Craycroft had been accepted by the draft and, through the influence of Colonel Davis, had been granted an Air Corps commission as a first lieutenant. He earned his pilot’s wings in June, nineteen forty-two, at Travis Field but saw no service as a combat pilot; he was transferred immediately back to Alaska and by nineteen forty-three had become chief of maintenance for the Eleventh Air Force in that theater of war (the campaign in the Aleutian Islands).
“In November, nineteen forty-three, Craycroft was assigned to a training command in Nebraska, where he trained ground crews until May, nineteen forty-four, when he went to England, now carrying the rank of lieutenant colonel, to become deputy maintenance commander for the Eighth Air Force.
“His reputation among the warrior pilots was supreme. Craycroft by now had become the best-known mechanic in the American air forces. He had redesigned the cooling mechanism of the P-48 cowlings to prevent them from overheating in high-speed combat climbs; he had rebuilt the bomb-rack systems of B-17 and B-24 aircraft (systems which invariable arrived from the factories in nonfunctional condition); he had contributed subtle revisions to the designs of propeller blades and wing-control surfaces which had the effect of increasing both the speed and maneuverability of several types of combat aircraft, both American and British.
“Craycroft’s ground-crew teams, used as cadres by every squadron in the ETO, became justly famous for their ability to repair virtually any shot-up airplane and have it ready to fly within twenty-four hours-often by the cannibalization of parts from unserviceable wrecks. The period nineteen forty-four to forty-five was characterized by daily maximum efforts-against the factories of Germany, the cities of the Reich, the V-l and V-2 rocket installations and the waning Luftwaffe. Craycroft’s teams invariably provided more airworthy planes for each mission than the commanders had anticipated having available. Shortly after the Normandy landings in June, nineteen forty-four, Craycroft was promoted full colonel and took over the post of maintenance commander for the Eighth Air Force; he still held that position at the end of the war.”
It was during that period that he assembled the airplanes for the Dresden attack?
Well, that was a bit earlier. He was only responsible for one squadron of bombers at Dresden.
Dresden keeps being mentioned in this inquiry. That’s why I asked.
It had a devastating effect on anybody who had anything to do with it.
Go on then, please.
(Reading) “In nineteen forty-six Craycroft left active duty but retained his commission in the Army (subsequently the Air Force) Reserve. He rejoined his former partner, Charles Ryterband (who in nineteen forty-four had married the younger of Craycroft’s two sisters), in yet another abortive commercial enterprise, called the Alpine Aircraft Company. Buying a small hangar and machine shop in Palo Alto, California, the brothers-in-law set out to design and manufacture light planes for the hobbyist and business-travel trade. Experts interviewed recently have attested to the ingenuity and economy of the Alpine designs; evidently they were first-rate airplanes, well ahead of their time in performance and stability. But only three prototypes were built-a twin-engine executive plane and two single-engine models (a two-seater and a five-passenger model)-before Alpine Aircraft obeyed the precedent and went bankrupt. Graycroft and Ryterband seemed as ingeniously dedicated to financial failure as they were to superb mechanical work.
“Between nineteen forty-eight and nineteen fifty the partners went separate ways, Ryterband securing a position with the aircraft-testing division of Lockheed Aircraft and Craycroft returning once again to Anchorage, where he set up and managed the maintenance operations of Alaskan Airlines.
“When the Korean War broke out, Craycroft’s Reserve commission was activated and he was shipped out to Japan to supervise repair and maintenance for the American Air Force wings stationed there. Evidently his performance during the first phase of the war was exemplary; but the Air Force was in the process of switching over from the P-51 Mustang (a propeller-driven pursuit craft) to the F-80 and F-86 jet fighters. When one reads between the lines of Craycroft’s service record, one reaches the conclusion that the man had no affinity for jet- powered aircraft. It seems clear he lost interest in the mechanical ingenuities that had made him such a legend; he became, in the words of one veteran who recalls him in his last months in Japan in nineteen fifty-three, ‘kind of a tired old pencil pusher. He was just going through the motions. We all figured he was washed up.’
“One notes that this ‘tired old pencil pusher’ was, at the time, barely thirty-five years old. (He had attained an important World War Two command and the rank of full colonel at the age of twenty-six.)
“Craycroft was rotated back to California before the end of the Korean War. In Los Angeles he stayed with his sister and his brother-in-law, who had left Lockheed and gone to work for a stunt and special-effects organization which specialized in helicopter and airplane work for motion pictures.
“Craycroft resigned his commission at this time in protest against the replacement of piston planes by jets. ‘He never could abide the jets,’ one pilot recalls. ‘He was like a sailboat man sneering at power boats. Always called them stinkpots.’”
Obviously that had something to do with his choice of an antique propeller-driven bomber for this attack on New York. Is there anything in his background up to this point which suggests his later derangement?
Well, he was always an odd bird, that’s obvious from the word “go.” But he wasn’t a violent man. I mean his military service record is remarkable for the opposite reason. There were no black marks at all. No escapades. His formal efficiency reports praised his efficiency and initiative, but there isn’t a damn thing in them that could give you any clue to his character at all.
Perhaps the fact that he was such an unusually colorless person is a clue in itself. People who bottle things up too tightly sometimes tend to explode.
Well, one thing you learn when you make a study of criminal psychology is that there are certain kinds of cases that are easy to predict and certain kinds that are damn well impossible to predict. I mean, you take a standard case of a kid who grows up in urban poverty, in an atmosphere of drugs and street violence and maybe a family with no father and all the usual ghetto aspects that the ivory-tower types call you a bigot for mentioning. You take a case like that and you know it’s advisable to keep an eye on somebody from that background because the chances are he’s more likely to turn to crime than a well-educated kid from a solid home in some small town in New England. But, hell, you can’t take a background like Craycroft’s and make predictions from that. A lot of people with similar backgrounds are airline pilots or vice-presidents of aircraft companies or bank presidents.
Nothing at all in his attitudes or behavior at that time suggested he might go off the deep end?
We’ve all got our private demons, I guess. We’ve all got pressures. But Craycroft’s didn’t show. Not according to anybody I’ve talked to… Well, I’ll go on, all right?
(Reading) “The middle and late nineteen fifties were a period of big-budget Hollywood dedication to the Second World War. Ryterband and Craycroft worked initially as maintenance mechanics and gadget designers for planes which mounted aerial cameras, but soon Craycroft saw opportunity in the movies’ great interest in airplanes as subject matter rather than as flying camera platforms. In nineteen fifty-four Craycroft and Ryterband formed the only corporation of their checkered career that enjoyed financial success. It was given the name of Air Corps Associates, Incorporated, a company chartered in the state of Arizona for the purpose of ‘aircraft restoration and
