1917-1961
Under the shadow of Thy Wings
Each has been given a course to fly;
Thank Thee O Lord, for our grant of life
Courage to strive, and strength to die.
Lt. Roscoe Charles (Bim) Wilson, AAC, Mitchel Field, 1931:
Each has been given a course to fly;
Thank Thee O Lord, for our grant of life
Courage to strive, and strength to die.
Lt. Roscoe Charles (Bim) Wilson, AAC, Mitchel Field, 1931:
COMING SOON! May, 2025
please contact us for more information
Copyright 2025 by Paul R. Martin III.
Faces From Mitchel Field
Portrait and Stories
By Paul R. Martin III
1917-1961
Forgotten Eagles
A full length, profusely illustrated book
"Faces From Mitchel Field" is a stand-alone volume with stories from across the 44-year history of the field, focusing on 38 people who served at Mitchel, and their individual personal stories. Culled from chapters I have already written for the multi-volume history, “Beneath The Shadows of Wings”, each story serves to provide the reader with a sense of life at the Field during each decade of its existence. “Faces From Mitchel Field”: Portraits and stories of the personalities who spent time at the field, and the aviators who braved the skies above the Hempstead Plains. Their personal narratives tell the unique tale of fearless eagles who risked their lives to conquer the air and serve our country.
The book is divided into five sections, The Cradle, World War I, Between the Wars, World War II, and Postwar. The importance and increased activity at the field during WWII precipitates the bulk of the stories. This book represents just a sampling of stories featuring people and events that took place during Mitchel Field’s rich forty-four-year history. My forthcoming multi-volume series, “Beneath the Shadows of Wings”, will tell them all.
Author/historian Paul R. Martin III draws from numerous newspaper, military and government documents, and other archival primary sources to tell the aviators' compelling stories.
"Faces From Mitchel Field" is richly illustrated with hundreds of rare photographs from the Cradle of Aviation Museum's photo archives and other public sources, many of which have never been seen before.
Read excerpts below.....
Introduction
In the Spring of 1909, a young girl and her mother drove from their home in their horse and buggy to the nearby Hempstead Plains to gather wildflowers.
The Hempstead Plains was created by the silty leading edge of the great glacier from the last ice age as the glacier receded it left behind what we now know as Long Island. The Plains were actually a prairie and originally encompassed about fifty square miles. The distinctive purple wildflower, the Bird-foot Violet thrived in the open, grassland environment. A person standing in the vicinity of what would later become East Meadow and Uniondale would have had a 360-degree panoramic view of what looked like an ocean of undulating waves or purple wildflowers pushed by an ever-steady wind.
As the girl and her mother were gathering flowers, they heard an unfamiliar sound and when they looked up in the sky to the sound’s origin, they saw an equally unfamiliar sight. It was none other than Glenn Curtiss in his Golden Flyer airplane, the first to fly over Long Island. It was the first airplane they had ever seen, prior to this they only read about airplanes in newspapers. This first flight by Curtiss would change Long Island and the fledgling aviation industry.
Curtiss chose Long Island due to the virtues of the Hempstead Plains for aviation. Its flat, treeless landscape; its prevailing winds of a constant speed which helped lift the early under-powered aircraft; and, equally important, its proximity to the rail line to New York City. Many would follow Curtiss and, by midcentury Long Island earned the distinction as the Cradle of American Aviation.
The Hempstead Plains would change forever in 1917 upon America’s entry into the First World War, when the Federal government purchased 800 acres of the Plains to create two airfields, one of which would become Mitchel Field.
Mitchel Field’s row of wooden hangars and barracks were razed and replaced by a modern brick and mortar airfield and base from 1928-1932. The base served through World War II and into the Jet Age. Mitchel Field closed in 1961. It could no longer expand as was necessary because of the ever-encroaching suburban development. Many of Mitchel’s buildings were utilized by the new Nassau Community College, others were used by the Federal Government for military housing, while others were used by Nassau County for maintenance activities and storage.
Today, Mitchel Field’s flight line and base is remarkably intact. So much so, that in 2018 it was listed as a historic district on the National Register of Historic Places. As important a recognition as this is, Mitchel Field’s stories have yet to be told. Mitchel’s buildings stand as silent sentinels to their role as a decisive part in this country’s history.
Paul Martin has delved into this history to tell the fascinating stories of this most important locale.
Gary Monti
Cradle of Aviation Museum, Uniondale, New York.
FOREWORD
The heritage and legacy of Mitchel Field is a compelling narrative that reached far beyond the local environs of the Hempstead Plains, Long Island and New York State. It linked Leonardo da Vinci’s 16th century visionary drawings of flying machines to the drama of 20th and 21st century space exploration, and influenced not only the history of scientific and aviation achievement, but the history of America and the world as well.
Its story brings together many well-known aviation pioneers and some of the most iconic figures in American history, who started their careers and forged their future on the dusty fields and runways of Mitchel Field, and documents a compelling journey of the human spirit.
Glenn Curtiss, Teddy and Quentin Roosevelt, Generals Curtiss LeMay, and James “Jimmy” Doolittle, and even Babe Ruth, all spent time at the field. Many lesser-known heroes of aviation history, like Major Caleb Haynes, and Lieutenants Colin Kelly and Benjamin S. Kelsey, and total unknowns, like Henry von Twistern, Erwin Silsbee, and Anne Passmore, also left their indelible mark upon the honor roll of Mitchel Field’s illustrious history.
One of the most prominent heroes never lived or worked on Long Island, or trained at Mitchel Field. John Purroy Mitchel, born and raised in Bronx County, educated at Columbia and New York Law School, became the 95th Mayor of New York City. After failing to win re-election in 1917, he enlisted in the U S Army Air Service when America entered World War I. A sudden nose-dive while training in Louisiana pitched him from his aircraft, causing his tragic and untimely death at the age of 38. His full story is included within the pages of this book.
The popular “Boy Mayor” of New York, mourned throughout the United States, received the ultimate memorial when the Army officially re-named a fledgling new airfield on Long Island in his honor in 1918. Mitchel Field in Hempstead, Long Island, soon became the preeminent air base on the east coast and a training ground for well-known and unsung aviation heroes who played leading roles in military and aeronautic history.
I do not remember when I first became enamored with Mitchel Field. I grew up just a few miles away in East Meadow, and my grandparents lived in and owned a dairy in Westbury. Sitting in the back seat of my parents’ station wagon, I must have passed it a thousand times as a child. Driving west on Hempstead Turnpike or Stewart Avenue for shopping or trips to Hempstead, the abandoned runways, barracks, and distant hangars summoned my curiosity and imagination.
Building World War II armor and airplane model kits in elementary school started a lifelong fascination with aviation and WWII history. My Korean War Veteran father encouraged us to learn American history, ensuring that summer vacations always included visits to historical sites, such as Civil War and Revolutionary War battlefields, the United States Military Academy at West Point, and the National Museum of the U S Air Force in Dayton, Ohio.
Even before I could drive, my friends and I rode our bicycles to Mitchel Field to spend hours and days exploring the abandoned buildings and vacant tarmacs and runways. Many remain today, drawing me continually back, where I often think of Joshua Chamberlain’s inspiring words, first spoken on the Gettysburg Battlefield. “In great deeds something abides. On great fields something stays. Forms change and pass; bodies disappear, but spirits linger, to consecrate ground for the vision-place of souls.”[
Ponder those famous words as you slowly wander around the deserted field. Slide your shoe pensively across an oil-stained tarmac. Listen for the sound of coughing piston motors echoed by the restless wind. Aircraft lift into the sky and ghostly footfalls clamber. Softly whispered voices linger in the darkened corners of abandoned buildings and hangars. Forgotten men and women, hidden between twilight and years gone by, urgently beckon from beyond the past, crying to be heard. Their remarkable stories are waiting no longer, for they have come back home to dream their dreams again. Hear them now, under one big sky above the Hempstead Plains, embraced beneath the shadows of wings, at the vision-place of souls.
Paul R. Martin III, 2025
The Hempstead Plains was created by the silty leading edge of the great glacier from the last ice age as the glacier receded it left behind what we now know as Long Island. The Plains were actually a prairie and originally encompassed about fifty square miles. The distinctive purple wildflower, the Bird-foot Violet thrived in the open, grassland environment. A person standing in the vicinity of what would later become East Meadow and Uniondale would have had a 360-degree panoramic view of what looked like an ocean of undulating waves or purple wildflowers pushed by an ever-steady wind.
As the girl and her mother were gathering flowers, they heard an unfamiliar sound and when they looked up in the sky to the sound’s origin, they saw an equally unfamiliar sight. It was none other than Glenn Curtiss in his Golden Flyer airplane, the first to fly over Long Island. It was the first airplane they had ever seen, prior to this they only read about airplanes in newspapers. This first flight by Curtiss would change Long Island and the fledgling aviation industry.
Curtiss chose Long Island due to the virtues of the Hempstead Plains for aviation. Its flat, treeless landscape; its prevailing winds of a constant speed which helped lift the early under-powered aircraft; and, equally important, its proximity to the rail line to New York City. Many would follow Curtiss and, by midcentury Long Island earned the distinction as the Cradle of American Aviation.
The Hempstead Plains would change forever in 1917 upon America’s entry into the First World War, when the Federal government purchased 800 acres of the Plains to create two airfields, one of which would become Mitchel Field.
Mitchel Field’s row of wooden hangars and barracks were razed and replaced by a modern brick and mortar airfield and base from 1928-1932. The base served through World War II and into the Jet Age. Mitchel Field closed in 1961. It could no longer expand as was necessary because of the ever-encroaching suburban development. Many of Mitchel’s buildings were utilized by the new Nassau Community College, others were used by the Federal Government for military housing, while others were used by Nassau County for maintenance activities and storage.
Today, Mitchel Field’s flight line and base is remarkably intact. So much so, that in 2018 it was listed as a historic district on the National Register of Historic Places. As important a recognition as this is, Mitchel Field’s stories have yet to be told. Mitchel’s buildings stand as silent sentinels to their role as a decisive part in this country’s history.
Paul Martin has delved into this history to tell the fascinating stories of this most important locale.
Gary Monti
Cradle of Aviation Museum, Uniondale, New York.
FOREWORD
The heritage and legacy of Mitchel Field is a compelling narrative that reached far beyond the local environs of the Hempstead Plains, Long Island and New York State. It linked Leonardo da Vinci’s 16th century visionary drawings of flying machines to the drama of 20th and 21st century space exploration, and influenced not only the history of scientific and aviation achievement, but the history of America and the world as well.
Its story brings together many well-known aviation pioneers and some of the most iconic figures in American history, who started their careers and forged their future on the dusty fields and runways of Mitchel Field, and documents a compelling journey of the human spirit.
Glenn Curtiss, Teddy and Quentin Roosevelt, Generals Curtiss LeMay, and James “Jimmy” Doolittle, and even Babe Ruth, all spent time at the field. Many lesser-known heroes of aviation history, like Major Caleb Haynes, and Lieutenants Colin Kelly and Benjamin S. Kelsey, and total unknowns, like Henry von Twistern, Erwin Silsbee, and Anne Passmore, also left their indelible mark upon the honor roll of Mitchel Field’s illustrious history.
One of the most prominent heroes never lived or worked on Long Island, or trained at Mitchel Field. John Purroy Mitchel, born and raised in Bronx County, educated at Columbia and New York Law School, became the 95th Mayor of New York City. After failing to win re-election in 1917, he enlisted in the U S Army Air Service when America entered World War I. A sudden nose-dive while training in Louisiana pitched him from his aircraft, causing his tragic and untimely death at the age of 38. His full story is included within the pages of this book.
The popular “Boy Mayor” of New York, mourned throughout the United States, received the ultimate memorial when the Army officially re-named a fledgling new airfield on Long Island in his honor in 1918. Mitchel Field in Hempstead, Long Island, soon became the preeminent air base on the east coast and a training ground for well-known and unsung aviation heroes who played leading roles in military and aeronautic history.
I do not remember when I first became enamored with Mitchel Field. I grew up just a few miles away in East Meadow, and my grandparents lived in and owned a dairy in Westbury. Sitting in the back seat of my parents’ station wagon, I must have passed it a thousand times as a child. Driving west on Hempstead Turnpike or Stewart Avenue for shopping or trips to Hempstead, the abandoned runways, barracks, and distant hangars summoned my curiosity and imagination.
Building World War II armor and airplane model kits in elementary school started a lifelong fascination with aviation and WWII history. My Korean War Veteran father encouraged us to learn American history, ensuring that summer vacations always included visits to historical sites, such as Civil War and Revolutionary War battlefields, the United States Military Academy at West Point, and the National Museum of the U S Air Force in Dayton, Ohio.
Even before I could drive, my friends and I rode our bicycles to Mitchel Field to spend hours and days exploring the abandoned buildings and vacant tarmacs and runways. Many remain today, drawing me continually back, where I often think of Joshua Chamberlain’s inspiring words, first spoken on the Gettysburg Battlefield. “In great deeds something abides. On great fields something stays. Forms change and pass; bodies disappear, but spirits linger, to consecrate ground for the vision-place of souls.”[
Ponder those famous words as you slowly wander around the deserted field. Slide your shoe pensively across an oil-stained tarmac. Listen for the sound of coughing piston motors echoed by the restless wind. Aircraft lift into the sky and ghostly footfalls clamber. Softly whispered voices linger in the darkened corners of abandoned buildings and hangars. Forgotten men and women, hidden between twilight and years gone by, urgently beckon from beyond the past, crying to be heard. Their remarkable stories are waiting no longer, for they have come back home to dream their dreams again. Hear them now, under one big sky above the Hempstead Plains, embraced beneath the shadows of wings, at the vision-place of souls.
Paul R. Martin III, 2025
1. Prologue
As the sun set behind partly cloudy skies across the length of Mitchel Field’s runways, it lingered gently upon the gold and black checkered hangar roofs and the operations building’s glass enclosed control tower. The newly constructed white concrete runways beckoned all wayward aviators, an inviting sanctuary home to set down following extended long distance flights or quick local jaunts.
The receding light reflected softly off the shiny metallic surfaces of an incoming “mystery plane” high above the earth to the west. “It came over the field from the west and made a long arc to the South, checking the winds for a landing.”[i] Perhaps the fastest military aircraft in the world, one aviation minded spectator who witnessed the arrival and inspected the plane later, described it as “the most perfect example of streamlining yet achieved in aviation.”[ii]
Appearing suddenly out of the dark cobalt blue high above Mitchel Field on February 11, 1939, Army Air Corps Lieutenant Ben S. Kelsey piloted the revolutionary craft, “sighted streaking into the field here at 4:55PM EST”[iii]. His dramatic entrance concluded a near record-breaking cross-country flight from California: the main purpose to test the speed and long-term airworthiness of the unusual prototype. Mitchel Field received no call to officially record the history-making arrival time of the Lockheed XP-38.
With an air temperature of 35 balmy degrees, mild for a February day on Long Island, clear weather and light shifting winds from the northwest at 10-13 miles per hour, the strange looking machine commenced its final approach.
Descending gradually, Kelsey contacted the Mitchel control tower for landing instructions but did “not request a clear approach for a dash past the tower and immediate landing.”[iv] Without pre-planned arrangements for the last-minute record-breaking flight, air traffic control routinely instructed Kelsey to land “number four, behind three PB-2As” already in the pattern coming in from Langley for runway 12/30 landings. Kelsey agreeably flew “a very long base leg before turning onto final approach at about 6,000 feet.”[v]
2nd. Lieutenant Raymond Toliver performed Officer of the Day (OD) duties that Saturday afternoon. “Operations called me to meet an incoming plane that was attempting to break some sort of transcontinental record; as they put it. We didn’t know anything else... except that it was something new and experimental. Two, maybe three, PB-2As … were coming in-to land. ... One was on base leg and one was on final. The tower requested that Kelsey... stretch out his base leg and take station behind the second PB-2A still in the air.”[vi]
“I stepped out in front of Operations to watch the planes land. Both PB-2As were coming in from the southeast, landing to the northwest. The strange silver job was by then, way out and pretty high. I guess he was about 6000 feet as he banked for final.” [vii]
Toliver continued watching from his vantage point near the Operations building as the craft sped in from the southeast above the Cold Stream Golf Course. “When the final PB-2A cleared the fence, Kelsey was about two miles out and sinking rapidly. He got down to what I thought was an alarmingly low altitude when one of the engines began to smoke, and I guessed he was pouring the coal to it. The nose went up and he continued to sink in spite of the power turned back on. Suddenly there was a lot of wood flying.” [viii]
Kelsey throttled back and started lowering his gear. “The turbos slowed down, and power reduced to about 15 percent. The descent rate was quite high, but I planned to drop it in near the end of the runway with power on to keep the nose up and let the plane act as its own brake. When I started to add power, I was really surprised to see those damned engines just sitting there and idling around 1500 rpm. Everything was happening in a second, but I knew this was a temporary thing and that the power would surge-on at any moment.”[ix]
“I think the gear was about halfway up (down) by the time I went into the treetops”, recalled Kelsey. “I knew the busy highway was right in front of me. It was a pretty rough ride from there on in.”[x] Eventually one motor responded, and the plane abruptly slid to the right. “Suddenly the right wing dipped, and the undercarriage of the descending plane tore into the top of a thirty-five-foot tree.”[xi]
The plane with its distinctive tricycle landing gear only partway down, sliced through several smaller trees, crashed into a soft sand pit, and slid dramatically to a violent halt; 200 yards short of Mitchel Field. “Arrival” time - 4:57:36, EST.
“You just cannot believe how much dust and smoke went up when he hit!”[xii] Stated Toliver, who stood transfixed, gaping across the runways to the southeast. “This tremendous cloud of smoke and dust went up”, he repeated. An officer ran excitedly from an office of the Ops building shouting, “He crashed! He crashed!”
Continued in Chapter 19. “Head For Mitchel Field and Don’t Spare the Horses.”
[i] Brooklyn Daily Eagle, February 12, 1939, p. 1, 3
[ii] New York Times, February 12, 1939, p.1, 38
[iii] Brooklyn Daily Eagle, February 12, 1939, p. 1, 3
[iv] Bodie, Warren M. “Skybolt, Part II” Wings Magazine, Volume 6, No. 2, April 1976, p. 12-13, A Sentry Magazine, NY, NY, Granada Hills, CA.
[v] Ibid Bodie, p. 13
[vi] Ibid. Bodie, p. 18-19
[vii] Ibid Bodie, p. 19
[viii] Ibid Bodie, p. 19
[ix] Ibid Bodie, p. 13
[x] Ibid Bodie, p. 13
[xi] New York Times, February 12, 1939, p. 1, p. 38
[xii] Bodie, p. 19
As the sun set behind partly cloudy skies across the length of Mitchel Field’s runways, it lingered gently upon the gold and black checkered hangar roofs and the operations building’s glass enclosed control tower. The newly constructed white concrete runways beckoned all wayward aviators, an inviting sanctuary home to set down following extended long distance flights or quick local jaunts.
The receding light reflected softly off the shiny metallic surfaces of an incoming “mystery plane” high above the earth to the west. “It came over the field from the west and made a long arc to the South, checking the winds for a landing.”[i] Perhaps the fastest military aircraft in the world, one aviation minded spectator who witnessed the arrival and inspected the plane later, described it as “the most perfect example of streamlining yet achieved in aviation.”[ii]
Appearing suddenly out of the dark cobalt blue high above Mitchel Field on February 11, 1939, Army Air Corps Lieutenant Ben S. Kelsey piloted the revolutionary craft, “sighted streaking into the field here at 4:55PM EST”[iii]. His dramatic entrance concluded a near record-breaking cross-country flight from California: the main purpose to test the speed and long-term airworthiness of the unusual prototype. Mitchel Field received no call to officially record the history-making arrival time of the Lockheed XP-38.
With an air temperature of 35 balmy degrees, mild for a February day on Long Island, clear weather and light shifting winds from the northwest at 10-13 miles per hour, the strange looking machine commenced its final approach.
Descending gradually, Kelsey contacted the Mitchel control tower for landing instructions but did “not request a clear approach for a dash past the tower and immediate landing.”[iv] Without pre-planned arrangements for the last-minute record-breaking flight, air traffic control routinely instructed Kelsey to land “number four, behind three PB-2As” already in the pattern coming in from Langley for runway 12/30 landings. Kelsey agreeably flew “a very long base leg before turning onto final approach at about 6,000 feet.”[v]
2nd. Lieutenant Raymond Toliver performed Officer of the Day (OD) duties that Saturday afternoon. “Operations called me to meet an incoming plane that was attempting to break some sort of transcontinental record; as they put it. We didn’t know anything else... except that it was something new and experimental. Two, maybe three, PB-2As … were coming in-to land. ... One was on base leg and one was on final. The tower requested that Kelsey... stretch out his base leg and take station behind the second PB-2A still in the air.”[vi]
“I stepped out in front of Operations to watch the planes land. Both PB-2As were coming in from the southeast, landing to the northwest. The strange silver job was by then, way out and pretty high. I guess he was about 6000 feet as he banked for final.” [vii]
Toliver continued watching from his vantage point near the Operations building as the craft sped in from the southeast above the Cold Stream Golf Course. “When the final PB-2A cleared the fence, Kelsey was about two miles out and sinking rapidly. He got down to what I thought was an alarmingly low altitude when one of the engines began to smoke, and I guessed he was pouring the coal to it. The nose went up and he continued to sink in spite of the power turned back on. Suddenly there was a lot of wood flying.” [viii]
Kelsey throttled back and started lowering his gear. “The turbos slowed down, and power reduced to about 15 percent. The descent rate was quite high, but I planned to drop it in near the end of the runway with power on to keep the nose up and let the plane act as its own brake. When I started to add power, I was really surprised to see those damned engines just sitting there and idling around 1500 rpm. Everything was happening in a second, but I knew this was a temporary thing and that the power would surge-on at any moment.”[ix]
“I think the gear was about halfway up (down) by the time I went into the treetops”, recalled Kelsey. “I knew the busy highway was right in front of me. It was a pretty rough ride from there on in.”[x] Eventually one motor responded, and the plane abruptly slid to the right. “Suddenly the right wing dipped, and the undercarriage of the descending plane tore into the top of a thirty-five-foot tree.”[xi]
The plane with its distinctive tricycle landing gear only partway down, sliced through several smaller trees, crashed into a soft sand pit, and slid dramatically to a violent halt; 200 yards short of Mitchel Field. “Arrival” time - 4:57:36, EST.
“You just cannot believe how much dust and smoke went up when he hit!”[xii] Stated Toliver, who stood transfixed, gaping across the runways to the southeast. “This tremendous cloud of smoke and dust went up”, he repeated. An officer ran excitedly from an office of the Ops building shouting, “He crashed! He crashed!”
Continued in Chapter 19. “Head For Mitchel Field and Don’t Spare the Horses.”
[i] Brooklyn Daily Eagle, February 12, 1939, p. 1, 3
[ii] New York Times, February 12, 1939, p.1, 38
[iii] Brooklyn Daily Eagle, February 12, 1939, p. 1, 3
[iv] Bodie, Warren M. “Skybolt, Part II” Wings Magazine, Volume 6, No. 2, April 1976, p. 12-13, A Sentry Magazine, NY, NY, Granada Hills, CA.
[v] Ibid Bodie, p. 13
[vi] Ibid. Bodie, p. 18-19
[vii] Ibid Bodie, p. 19
[viii] Ibid Bodie, p. 19
[ix] Ibid Bodie, p. 13
[x] Ibid Bodie, p. 13
[xi] New York Times, February 12, 1939, p. 1, p. 38
[xii] Bodie, p. 19
Mitchel Field and runways as they appeared in May of 1939 looking northwest. Note the southeast extension under construction and the southwest/northeast runway under construction. Kelsey’s XP-38 crashed into the Cold Stream Golf Course in the lower left-hand corner of the picture while attempting to land on the Southeast/northwest runway. Center right is the Meadowbrook Polo grounds, now the site of the Modern NCC Campus. Below that is Meadowbrook Golf course west of Merrick Ave. Meadowbrook Parkway runs through there now. Hempstead Turnpike. (Fulton Ave) runs diagonally across the lower left-hand corner. The US government purchased the Cold Stream Golf Course in 1942 to build the Santini Sub Base and Hospital. The open plain in the lower right hand corner will eventually become Salisbury/Eisenhower Park. All the way on top, right, you can see Roosevelt Field. Photo Courtesy COAM.
Mitchelfield.weebly.com Copyright 1973 - 2023. by Paul R. Martin III
All photos taken by Paul R. Martin III unless stated otherwise. All rights reserved.
No images or content may be reproduced without prior written permission.
All photos taken by Paul R. Martin III unless stated otherwise. All rights reserved.
No images or content may be reproduced without prior written permission.
