A few weeks ago I decided to research the old 1930's "China Clipper" long range passenger seaplanes. As I did a story idea came up in my head and I asked  kensingshow if I could use his flying squirrel pilot fem, Jetta, for the story and he said "Go ahead." As  neysa's character was supposed to by friend to Jetta at that time I asked to add her into the story as well and  neysa said "Okay."

In this story Jetta and her "crew" manage to aquire one of the biggest, most successful type of the "China Clipper" luxury airliners of the day. Jetta's talanted mechanic/engineer, Wasabi, reworks the plane to jack up its strength. speed, and other things. Suddenly, WW II breaks out and Jetta and her nearly modified plane is tapped to deliver suppies to one of the battle fronts.

Characters copyright of their respective owners.

Story my copyright and my "Thanks." to  kensingshow and  neysa for their permission to post it here.

1 May 2010: Roy Pounds aka  steamfox pointed out a technical error in this story, that being that radial engines were set up in two "banks" of in odd numbered "spokes" of the engine. So I up the number to 18 cylinders in 9 "spokes". He called me attention to a few weak/ambibuous points in the story and I've done some "polishing" on them as well. Should be a bit of a better read now.



Supply Run

"That's my baby," Jetta purred as she patted the instrument panel.
The rumble of the four 18 cylinder 1,900 horsepower radial engines above and to either side of her was as beautiful as any music to the flying squirrel woman's ear. The flash of the new longer, broader bladed propellers were a delight to her eye as they "bit" harder into the air thus getting more thrust out of each turn they made. The normal cruising speed for the Boeing B-314 was around 185 mph. This one was cruising at 260 mph.
"Born to fly," many people say of dedicated pilots.
That statement applied to Jetta with a hefty amount of interest that went well beyond her species. She could learn to fly anything with wings very quickly. Wasabi, her mechanic partner, said all she had to do was touch the craft and she'd know all there was about it.
"Some people want to fly. Some people love to fly," the diminutive, barely four foot tall, Wasabi would say. "In Jetta's case, she has to fly! If she didn't she'd dry up and blow away."
In normal times Jetta's flight would have been routine, even boring. But times were not normal. The war in the Pacific had kicked off almost a month ago and the Americans, Brits, Dutch, and French weren't doing well. To be frank, the Allies were losing, badly, on most fronts. This flight was a run to the Phillipines where she was to deliver more than eleven tons of ammunition and basic medical supplies to the American forces there. The stores had been loaded aboard at the Australian port of Darwin, into the Boeing B-314 "China Clipper" aircraft which had come into her hands due to a fluke of chance.
The plane had been around for a couple of years but it had aquired a reputation for being "jinxed". Odd accidents and failures had made crews reluctant to fly it and the owning company didn't want any bad publicity to bleed over to the rest of the air fleet so they cut their losses and decided to sell it. Knowledge of the plane's problems (Jetta and Wasabi talked those up to others in the flying biz, for some reason) kept other airlines from buying it so they ended up selling it, cheap, to Jetta and Wasabi. Both were close to seventh heaven when they took possession of the plane. Neither believed in jinxed aircraft. To them such an aircraft was either not built right or it hadn't been treated right. And they intended to see to it that their new "baby" got a loving once over to deal with any such problems. It turned out there were quite a few of those to deal with and Wasabi made changes to the airframe. Knowing that he was going to add more powerful engines he and his crew strenghtened critical stress points and beefed up other areas he had concerns about. The initial cost for the B-314 plus the expenses of the changes kept the pair on the edge of being broke. Jetta flew cargos and passengers almost constantly, and salvage Wasabi did work on the side to bring in cash. They didn't mind, this was their baby and they intended to do right by her.
Wasabi's biggest problem (Jetta's too) with the original design of the plane was that there were no engine controls in the cockpit. Those were at the flight engineer's station set up nearly 15 feet behind the pilots' positions on the starboard side of the flightdeck. That had to change and a cosole for startup switches and throttle controls was built in forward of and between the pilot and copilot's seats. The radio was another problem. It was set up at a position a few feet behind the copilot's seat and operated by a seperate crew member in the original design. Space in the cockpit simply did not allow for a radio to be there so Wasabi settled for putting extra controls for setting the frequency, squelch, and such while leaving the bulk of the communications gear in its original place. The remaining major change was the engines and the new props. Jetta was amazed to find that her partner had ordered them several weeks before they had clinched the sale of the plane!
"Jetta, hon, did you ever have any doubt we were going to get it?" the flying squirrel mechanic said, with a smug expression, when she confronted him about that.
The engines cylinders had been bored out to Wasabi's specs and those powerplants assembled by him and his crew when the war began with a vengance. Jetta and Wasabi had seen it coming. To them only the blind or the foolish didn't. The mechanic put himself and his crew into overdrive to get the B-314 up and running. Besides the emplacement of the engines, and a myriad of other details, they stripped the aircraft of most of its "fluff" (passanger seats, carpeting, galley equipment, etc.) to get the weight down and to make space for the transport of cargo and personnel. A visit from a US embassy military attache in early January lent urgency to the work. US forces in the Phillipines had been driven back onto the Bataan penincula and the island fort of Corrigador. These were the only forces left holding out against the enemy and were in need of resupply. The only ways left were by submarine and by air, specifically, seaplanes. After getting everything together Jetta made a couple of test flights with simulated cargo onboard and needed adjustments in ballast were made. A couple days later the plane was readied for the first run to the Phillipines. Jetta's friend, a black furred unicorn mare named Neysa, wanted to go along. She knew, from listening in on conversations, that Corrigador was the place the supplies were being taken to. In the war zone it was, for now, relatively safe compared to the battlefront on Bataan. She talked to Jetta about going with her.
"You'll be coming back with injured people and will need someone with medical training to look after them," she pointed out.
Jetta shook her head "No.".
"This is the first long run with the plane since we rebuilt it and things may still be a little shaky," she said. "And I'm running close on the weight as well. I don't want to risk any one but myself on this trip. If I make it there they'll give me a couple or three medical types to tend the wounded on the way back."
Waving goodby to Wasabi and the crew who were on the dock Jetta took the plane out into the bay and lumbered into the air just as the sun was sinking below the horizon. To avoid possible encounters with hostile aircraft this would be, for the most part, a night mission.
Jetta finished her third nav. check and was glad to see she needed only a minor course correction. As she made the change she noticed a tiny...shift in the feel of the aircraft.
"Bet part of that cargo is loose," she thought.
Engaging the autopilot that Wasabi had installed Jetta got up to do a looksee. In the dim lighting of the lower decks she checked the cargo. Coming around one net secured stack of medical supplies the squirrel woman froze at what she saw hiding behind it. A black furred unicorn mare was kneeling behind the pile, with her head looking away from Jetta. When she turned her head and saw the glowering flying squirrel looking down at her Neysa squeaked in surprise. She'd known this moment was coming but had hoped to put it off just a little longer. The look on Jetta's face did not bode well! Even with a tight mental grip on herself it was about all Jetta could do to keep from exploding into a swearing streak that would have won her the respect of every sailor in the world.
"Get up to the flight deck!" said Jetta with a tight chested voice.
Grabbing a large duffle off the floor Neysa went to the front of the plane and climbed up to the flightdeck. Jetta was right behind her. Once on the deck the pilot motioned for Neysa to seat herself in the copilot's position then sat herself down in the pilot's seat. After checking the altitude she disengaged the autopilot and took control. Jetta needed to do something to keep her composure. Neysa said nothing. Her friend's displeasure was plainly evident.
"We're a little over two hours from put down," Jetta said, at last. "You had best get what sleep you can before we get to Bataan."
"Bataan? You're going to Corrigador,...aren't you?" questioned Neysa.
"These supplies are needed as soon as possible so I'm delivering them to a beach close, real close, to the front line of battle."
Jetta took some grim satisfaction from the worried expression on the mare's face.
"That's why I didn't want you on this trip," she added.
Neysa didn't say anything more. Getting up she went to the bolted down bunk behind the pilot's seat and laid down. It was some time before she drifted off to sleep.
Neysa awoke to the feel of someone shaking her.
"Up and at 'em my equine stowaway!" came Jetta's voice. "We're almost there."
After a few quick stretches to loosen up and clear the sleep from her head Neysa sat down in the co-pilot's seat once more.
"Keep an eye out on the coastline," Jetta told her friend. "We're looking for a flashing light there."
They had orbited for several minutes off the coast when Neysa spotted the blink of a light right at water's edge.
"Over there!" she called, pointing.
Jetta saw the light flashs from the black line of the coast. Four short blinks followed by two long ones. Snagging a hand held spotlight from the holding clip beside her she pointed it at that spot and flashed three long, three short, and one long. The coast light "shot" two long flashs back at her.
"This is the place," Jetta said to Neysa. "Check that your harness is tight. I have no idea what the chop is like so this could get rough."
Both women chinched their safety harnesses up tight. Past experiences had taught them that the discomfort of being tightly strapped in was preferable to getting banged up if they weren't. The waves weren't too bad though their first touch rattled things for a few seconds. Neysa was glad for the harness, that jolt would have thrown her forward into the panel and windscreen without it. Jetta killed the two outer engines and had the remaining ones down at low power. Both fems saw the slow flashing light at the shoreline and they made for it. As they closed Jetta noticed that whomever was operating it was pointing beam on the bow of the plane instead of in their faces.
"He's done this before," the squirrel woman commented. "Or he's smart enough to know not to hit us in the face with the light."
The light went study and played back and forth over the shoreline of the bit of beach Jetta was approaching. She was glad for that, it looked rough and Jetta decided to stop short. She swung the plane sideways to halt it some twenty feet from away and killed the remaining engines. Scrambling down into the nose compartment Jetta threw the upper leaf hatch doors opened, grabbed a heavy rope hanging on the wall, and slung it towards the slow blinking light. She was gratified to see it tighten up. Running into the lower compartments she opened the door on the port, landward, side of the plane and threw a second rope to shore as well. It, too, tightened and the plane was eased towards the beach. Jetta unlimbered her .45 cal auto pistol, just in case.
"You got a big bird there, lady," she heard from the shore as the end of the ten foot stablizing "wing" touched land.
The light flashed on to show the ghostly looking face of a male mountain lion. Jetta stepped onto shore and found herself surrounded by several men and even in the dim lighting she could see the admiring looks they gave her. She handed the puma guy her manifest.
"How soon can you get her unloaded?" she asked.
"Holy Joe!" the feline exclaimed as he looked at the paper. "Over 23,000 pounds of cargo! I didn't know there was anything flying that could haul that much!"
"Well, this bird does," Jetta said.
"Figure about two hours," the lion sgt. said. "We want to be careful not to bang up your plane."
"I'd really appreciate that you not do that!" Jetta said in a humorous tone. "I need...
The sound of rifle and machingun fire erupted off to the north. It was punctuated by the heavier booms of artillery fire. All of it sounded close. Uncomfortablely close.
"You bums quit ogling the lady and get to the unloading, now!" growled the sgt. "Ammo first!"
The men hastily got to work. Several minutes passed and Jetta noticed that the fire wasn't dying down in intensity.
"Enemy likely heard you and figured out what is going on," the puma informed her. "Not too worried about them breaking through. That section of the line is heavily dig in."
"Hmmmm, okay. My medical assistant and I going to try a nap out. Wake us when you've finished unloading," Jetta said.
"Will do, ma-am."
"Why don't we sleep on the plane?" asked Neysa as Jetta led her out.
"Because if it takes an artillery hit we might not survive," said her friend.
Both had their blankets and they laid them down at a spot about a hundred feet from the airplane. A couple of flares lighting up the frontline got their attention.
"Let's hope the Sgt. is right about that line holding," Jetta said. "Or this is going to be a short nap."
Jetta laid down and was asleep in about a minute. Neysa took longer, a lot longer.

Something shook Jetta's shoulder. She came awake immediately. In the little bit of moonlight that filtered through the trees she could just make out the face of the mountain lion sgt.
"Would you mind putting that thing away?" he asked, calmly.
It was then that Jetta realized that she had her .45 auto pointed at his nose.
"Sorry," she said, holstering the weapon.
"Don't be," he replied. "All things considered you'd be foolish not to unlimber it here."
Jetta looked at her watch and saw that she'd gotten two hours and twenty some minutes of sleep.
"Finished unloading about a half an hour ago," said the Sgt. "We didn't know you were going to have so much space for wounded so we sent some vehicles up to the line to being some more back."
"You got them here already?"
"Not quite. Be a few more minutes before the first load arrives."
After rousing Neysa the two fems returned to the plane. Jetta had her friend standing on the stablizer "wing" beneath the port side main wing.
"Stay here," Jetta instructed the mare. "I've got a batch of blankets stowed in the wings that I'll hand down to you. Toss them into the main compartment."
Getting into wing storage through the flightdeck Jetta opened the hatch in the bottom of the wing and began handing down the sixty-eight blankets. Half done they heard the sound of vehicles arriving. Men carrying stretchers appeared out of the darkness and began loading them into the plane. Neysa found herself handing the rolled up blankets to men who took them in relays throughout the various compartments. As she handed in the last one Neysa heard other vehicles coming.
"That'll be the new batch," the lion said. "That fight lasted for the better part of an hour and these new ones are likely going to need some additional patching up."
Numbly, Neysa nodded. She'd dealt with some bad injuries, even gunshot wounds, before but never so many at once. The task would be daunting.
"Glad you're a nurse. Medics are in high demand here and we can't spare any. I do have four walking wounded that can assist you but that's the best I can do."
Again, Neysa nodded. Jetta stuck her head out of the upper nose hatch opening.
"Sgt., when I flash the light from the cockpit push us off!" she directed.
"Will do."
Neysa went inside and checked in the compartments. Every one of the sixty-three fold up wall cots was down and all of them had someone in it. Many of the men were moaning in pain, and few were weeping. Others were silent. Snagging her duffle Neysa checked her morphine and sulfa supplies, then pulled out two rolls of colored tape. One red, the other yellow.
"Harriman, Collins, get on the plane!" ordered the Sgt.
"Sgt.?" questioned one of them.
"That nurse is going to need some more help and I tagging you for the duty! Now get on!!"
The rabbit and skunk did as ordered.
"Ready to push off!" the Sgt called.
Jetta pulled the hatch halves shut, locked them, and scrambled up to the cockpit. Once seated and strapped in she snatched up the intercomm mike.
"Welcome aboard Flying Squirrel Airlines!" she said into the mike. "Please take your positions as we are about to be pushed away for takeoff!"
"Troop seats here, here, and here!" Neysa pointed out to her helpers as she folded her own down, sat on it, and belted herself in.
Seeing a flash of light from the cockpit the men shoved the plane away so that the nose was aimmed out into the open water. Jetta hit the fuel priming switchs, set the fuel mixs, then engaged the starters. Cranking up radial engines when they were cold was something of an art, one Jetta was familiar with. One by one the engines coughed to life and fired up. With all four running and synced in Jetta powered up to get off the water. Once in the air she turned south and began a slow climb for altitude. It was 0127 hrs and she wanted to make the most of the four hours of remaining darkness to get out of the area. She pushed the speed up to 285 mph. It burned more fuel then cruise speed but she could afford to. Jetta wanted the extra distance in case enemy fighters came out looking for them. Not knowing the capabilities of this plane it was likely they would be looking for it further to north, figuring that it was slower. And it wouldn't hurt if they got the injured to Darwin a little faster. By 0400 hrs Jetta was glad for the thermos of "Iron Man" coffee Wasabi had given her. The stuff tasted like barely diluted battery acid but it did the job of keeping one awake and alert. She resisted the urge to go below desks and see how things were going. No doubt Neysa was busy and Jetta would only be in the way. When the sun started showing itself at around 0520 they were at the northern edge of the Timor Sea, a little over an hour out from Darwin. Upon sighting the city Jetta gave her passwords and Port Darwin radio gave her landing information.
"Neysa, we're putting down in a few minutes," Jetta called over the intercomm. "Light chop in the bay so it should be pretty smooth. We'll be pulling up to a dock that has medical personnel and vehicles waiting for us."
The touch down was as good as Jetta hoped it would be. She didn't want to jar the injured any more then she had to. Easing up to the dock she shut down the starboard side engines and the inner port side one as well then swung around to get the left wing over the dock and the fuseluge beside it. Once positioned Jetta killed the last engine. Men rushed forward with long poled grappling hooks that they used to grip the aircraft and pull it to the dock. The plane had barely stopped at dockside when the side door was thrown open and men practically boiled into it.
"Ones with red tapes first!" Jetta heard Neysa command. "Yellow tapes after the reds are gone!"
Jetta was impressed! As she climbed down from the flight deck she heard her normally quiet friend direct the men with a sureness and authority that would have done a Sgt. Major proud! The squirrel fem heard the sound of vehicles starting up and driving off and saw Neysa follow the last stretcher out onto the dock as she got down on the lower compartments deck. Jetta walked through them, running a final check. In doing so she saw four men still there. Their blankets were pulled up to where they completely covered their heads. A universal sign that meant only one thing. Jetta closed her eyes and heaved a tired sigh.
"Young men who no longer have to worry about growing old," she murmured.
Jetta climbed out onto the dock then saw some men go back into the plane. She noted that only a few vehicles were left. Neysa stood close by and her friend came to her. In the morning light she could see that the unicorn woman's clothing smeared with blood and the look of deep exhaustion on her face. Jetta stood behind the mare and placed her left hand on Neysa's left shoulder. Together they looked on as the troops tenderly removed the bodies from the plane. They were loaded into two vehicles and the women watched them drive away. All that remained was one car, with its driver, that was for them. Except for the sound of water lapping at the sides of the plane things were, now, strangely quiet. Jetta felt her friend start to tremble, then to shake. Suddenly, Neysa shook off the hand on her shoulder and snapped around to face Jetta. The expression on the mare's face was one of pent up fury! Anger at having this ugliness of war slammed in her face in one undeniable shot! She wanted to take it out on someone, to scream and yell that it was, somehow, that person's fault for it happening! Jetta just stood there, waiting. The rage drained away and all that remained was a tired, bloodied, and suddenly war wise woman. Tears welled up in Neysa's eyes and she put her head on Jetta's shoulder and cried. The squirrel fem had her arms around her friend and padded her back with her hands but said nothing. Words were absolutely useless at this moment.
"Jetta,...sniff...I hate this!" Neysa got out at last.
"Trust me, hon. You're not the only one," Jetta replied.
Neysa never saw the tears in her friend's eyes.