This one did not stay put for long. Altitude and engine noise excited it enough so it kept racing about the plane. On one occasion, the damn thing ran past my face as I rested my head on the radio table. To add to our rodent concerns on this mission, engine problems required us to feather number four-engine as we withdrew from target.

We limped back to Guam, turning the engine and rat problem over to Tomper, our ground crew chief. He was asked to eliminate the rat problem before our next mission. Tomper baited a large rattrap with bread and placed it in the center compartment. When mission time came, we noticed that the bait had not been touched. We hoped that the rat had gotten off the aircraft the same way he had gotten on.

Upon looking back, I wondered how he had gotten aboard in the first place inasmuch as the ladders for entry were raised well above the ground. It seemed possible that he had gained access through the nose wheel well or else had gained entry by concealing himself within equipment carried aboard.

Our next mission, July 24th, this time to Ohama below Nagoya, we once again found the unwanted guest acting up as usual. Some idea of how we felt might be understood if one can imagine himself being confined in a bus for 15 hours knowing he had a rat for a fellow passenger.

So this mission went about the same as the previous one, except we didn't have engine trouble. On our return to Guam, Tomper was informed that he had better get results in eradicating the rat … or else. By now we had become neurotic about the problem. Through we had place responsibility on our crew chief; it's likely that apprehending rats was not one of his primary duties.

The next mission, July 26th, was to Omuta, located on the west coast of Kyushu. At mission takeoff time, the baited trap was still barren. Tomper had used two traps and this time using C-ration cheese as the lure. He placed one in the forward cabin and the other in the middle compartment. Inwardly, we hoped that the rat had voluntarily decided to abandon the aircraft and the traps would not be required for his removal.

Excuse the repetition, but our visitor soon made his appearance once again. I didn't know whether to cry or laugh about the matter. There existed the danger that it might damage a vital piece of equipment and cause an electrical fire. I vowed not to fly again until the rodent was permanently eradicated.

Once again we returned safely. Tomper, for a third time, was the target of threats, such as "get him or else!" I'm not sure what the "or else" involved.

Our crew chief, this time set four traps - two for and two aft - all baited with inviting pieces meat and cheese. Voila! This time his efforts were successful. Our unwanted but exclusive guest was caught. We were relieved to know that this two pound oversized rat would no longer interrupt the normal operation of our flights.

The remains were disposed of in the nearby jungle. After deliberation, however, we realized guiltily that the rodent should have been buried with full military honors. After all, he had voluntarily accompanied us on three bombing missions over Japan. Didn't every combat airman deserve at least an Air Medal?

This then was a sad ending to for a very dedicated rat - one who had earned a decoration of valor but had not been adequately recognized.

Perhaps this story will partially atone for the gross oversight - even if it is posthumously awarded.