D. Clarke Evans Photographer

Ben Phillips

Captain, USMC
1942–1945

1st Lt. Ben Phillips
South Pacific, 1943

My worst day in the Marine Corps was the day my brother was killed…. I still miss him—I never got over his death.

I was born in 1921 in East Texas, grew up on a farm and went to Levelland High School. I was in school at Texas Tech in Lubbock studying for a calculus quiz when it came on the radio that Pearl Harbor had been bombed. I saw those Navy guys that came around recruiting and I liked their uniforms. Guys my age had to register for the draft and I didn’t want to register, so I enlisted in the Navy in January, 1942 to take flight training. After graduating, I picked the Marines.

My primary training began at an airbase near Arlington, Texas. From there we trained all over: Dallas, Corpus Christi, Jacksonville, Florida. I went to Great Lakes Naval Air Station on Lake Michigan to be trained on landing an airplane on an aircraft carrier. In June, 1943 I qualified for carrier landings with a Grumman TBF Avenger torpedo bomber. There were all kinds of notes written inside the plane like “Good Luck” and “Kill the Japs”. We were ordered to Santa Barbara, California where we formed up into a squadron and got used to flying with each other.

In August, 1943 our squadron shipped out from San Diego on an aircraft carrier headed for the South Pacific. We did more training on instruments, dive bombing, squadron and torpedo tactics—practicing for combat. In November, 1943 I had a mid-air collision in Espiritu Santo near New Zealand. We had an 18-plane division and a guy was taking pictures. I was flying the number two plane and the photographer came too close and hit me.

In December we went into combat near Guadalcanal. We were bombing anything Japanese, with concentration bombing on beaches to clear them out for the Marines getting ready to hit the beachheads. We were first based in New Georgia, then sent near Bougainville where we were right in the middle of a big battle. You could hear the bullets and flares going at night. I had over 30 bombing runs.

I went on leave to Australia for a few days and then was shipped back to the States in late 1944. I was made a primary instructor and in June, 1945, was ordered to Ewa Marine Corps Air Station near Pearl Harbor. Rockets were kind of new then. We practiced shooting rockets and practiced night landings. We were training to take off from a carrier in preparation for invading Japan. Suddenly, the war was over and I was discharged in late 1945. I was pretty happy at Ewa. I wasn’t getting shot at and I was flying! I met Ted Williams there and we went to some inter-service baseball games. He flew TBFs like me.

After my discharge, I came back home, stayed around Levelland, Texas while I went to school at Texas Tech. I didn’t graduate. I got married in Lubbock in 1947. I was kind of at loose ends, working around the house with my dad, and going to school some. I worked for an oil company for a while in New Mexico. We had three kids and lived in Carlsbad where I worked in potash mines. I did real well working in the mines. I liked it.

My worst day in the Marine Corps was the day my brother was killed. He took off from the USS Bon Homme Richard north of Guam. They were flying at night and crashed. My brother was not able to get out. I still miss him—I never got over his death.  War is hell. {09-24-2015 • Boerne, TX}