During the war years of the 1940's many B-24 crews would receive their final training at the Muroc Army Airfield on the great Mojave Desert of southern California..  Some of that training  would be "final" in more ways than just one.  Muroc would lose dozens of aircraft of all types during those turbulent war years. After the war  Muroc would continue to lose men as it tested equipment on the cutting edge of aviation technology, and it would get a name change.  It would become Edwards Air Force Base to honor Capt. Glen Edwards, who was killed in the fatal accident of the YB-49 Flying Wing on the open desert to the north.   

    During the war the largest aircraft used for training at the desolate base was the magnificent B-24 "Liberator".  The American B-24, and the famous B-17 were constantly raining death and destruction down on Nazi Germany, Hitler's Riche, and the Japanese held Pacific islands.  Many of the crews onboard those aircraft were trained at Muroc AAF.  Some would go on to become highly skilled crews, and help to win the war.  While others were destined to become part of history while still in training.  Pieces of their aircraft would forever litter the desert floor and isolated peaks around Muroc.

    On a cold and windy January morning  in 1944, 2nd Lt. Fred W. Bauscher was the pilot in command at the controls of one such aircraft.  Just  four months earlier on August 30, 1943 Lt. Bauscher had received his Army Pilot rating . He completed  his four-engine transition training in B-24's on November 12th of that same year. and had accumulated a total of 459 hours of flight time to date. His copilot that dark morning was 2nd Lt. Allen J. Haupenthal, also a recent graduate of the B-24 transition school.  Together they would guide their mighty B-24J through the early morning sky while given the other crew members the required training on the day's schedule.  There were eight other young airmen on that ill-fated B-24 that morning, and none would live to see the sunrise of January 3rd.

    The other crew members  were  2nd Lt. Alton L. Snell, 2nd Lt. Daniel S. Logan, Sgt. Joseph F. Ahlert, Sgt. Jessie H. Carver, Sgt. Charles R. Borrelli, Sgt. Moseley Burton, Sgt. Joseph A. Butelho, and Sgt. Trevor Hughes.  All of these young eager airmen had high hopes of helping to win the war, and after, living long productive lives with family and friends.  But all of their hopes and dreams would end abruptly when their B-24J did not clear Sunday Peak on the final approach to the Muroc airfield at the end of their mission.

    The aircraft had departed Muroc at 10:16 p.m. the night before on a scheduled cross-country training mission to Barstow, Chloride, Kingman, Goffs, Lancaster, Mojave and then back to Muroc.  After returning from the cross-country, the aircraft was to practice bombing from 10,000 feet on one of the Muroc bombing ranges.  At 2:45  in the morning, while the desert and surrounding mountain peaks were still cloaked in darkness, Lt. Bauscher and the crew completed the cross-country phase of their training flight.  He was now leisurely circling over George AAF at 10,000 feet while preparing for the next phase on the training program.   At that point Bauscher contacted  George  tower, and requested permission to begin the practice bombing stage of the training.  George tower told Bauscher that he could begin bombing on range PB-7, but only if he could establish contact with the Muroc Bombing Range Control tower.  For unknown reasons  Bauscher was not able to establish two-way contact with the Muroc Range.  So a half an hour later, at 3:15 a.m. Bauscher once again called the George tower to advise them of his situation, and to request further instructions.  The Tower Duty Officer at Muroc, Major Felton,  overheard 358 calling George and instructed his tower operator, Sgt. Norman Roof, to take control of the flight.  Roof  instructed Bauscher to descend to 9,000 feet and fly up and down the Muroc Radio beam until his mission time had elapsed.  The instructions were acknowledged by Bauscher with a simple "Roger", as he began to descend to the assigned altitude.

    The mission elapse time was approximately 3:45 a.m., and at that time several of the training flight's aircraft began calling George for landing instructions back at Muroc.  During the night one of the B-24's had experienced engine failure in the number one engine.  This emergency on B-24 #880 required that the aircraft be cleared straight in to the Muroc runway.  All other aircraft were told to hold at various altitudes from 4,500 feet, to 11,000 feet, while 880 made its approach and landed.  At 3:50 a.m. ship #358, Bauscher's ship, contacted the George tower and requested the necessary landing instruction.  Number 358 was told of the engine out emergency, and asked to remain at 9,000 feet until further notice. This was the last contact George had with ship 358 before it crashed. 

    Ship 880 made a successful landing at 3:55 a.m., but just as George was about to clear the other aircraft to begin their approaches, another ship called with a low fuel emergency.  Ship 363 advised the tower that they were critically low on fuel and needed to land as soon as possible.  So the tower operator cleared 363 for a straight in approach to the Muroc runway.  At 3:57 a.m. ship 363 was safely on the ground, so the other ships were called down and cleared to land starting with the lowest ship in the group.

    As the busy Muroc tower operator was handling the landing aircraft, he suddenly noticed a large fire burning on a mountain top about 10 to 15 miles to the southeast.  Curious, Sgt. Roof  picked up his field glasses and had a look.  From that distance he could not see what had caused the distant fire, but with so many B-24's filling the night sky in such close proximity to the airfield  an uneasy feeling began to set in over the tower operators.

    Not knowing exactly what was burning on the far away peak, but not wanting to take a chance, Sgt. Roof called the Crash Tower and the number 1 Fire Station at 4:06 a.m. to notified them of the large fire burning off in the distance.  At 4:10 a.m. he notified the Officer of the Day.   At 4:30 a.m. the Aircraft Dispatcher notified the Assistant Base Operations Officer of the fire.  By now all ships except #358 had landed safely.  During this time the George tower made repeated calls to Lt. Bauscher in ship 358, but did not receive a reply.  By 5:00 a.m., with the sun just coming up over the peak where the fire had been spotted, it became apparent that one ship was missing.  That ship was #358, with Lt. Bauscher and nine other young men onboard.

    Just before dawn crash rescue crews and fire crews headed out in the direction of the now smoking mountain peak.  At 06:59 that morning it was confirmed by the fire crews that the fire was indeed caused by a crashed B-24.  At that time only one body had been found, but soon all ten of the airmen onboard were discovered entangled in the smoldering wreckage.  All ten had been killed on impact with the 3,300 foot high peak just to the north of Sunday Peak.  Why this aircraft was flying so low, when its assigned altitude was 9,000 feet, will forever remain a mystery. 

    The aircraft hit the very small rocky peak on the upsweeping, eastern  side, leaving small bits of Plexiglas, aluminum and other wreckage scattered on the very top.  The main wreckage bounced over the top and went down on the desert floor about 500 feet below leaving shards of aluminum and the bodies of the crew as it went.  The elevation at the point of impact is 3,300 feet above sea level (MSL).  The desert floor at that point is a mere 2,500 feet MSL.  That means that for unknown reasons Lt. Bauscher had taken the B-24 down to within 800 feet of the ground.  Why he left his assigned altitude of 9,000 feet is an even bigger mystery.  Perhaps he was tired, and just in a hurry to get back on the ground after the long night's training flight.  Or perhaps he had a fuel or engine problem, but didn't have time to call  the tower and report it.  Surely he was flying on instruments in the black featureless predawn sky.  He may have thought that he had plenty of altitude.  After all, the altimeter was reading 3,300 feet. The young, relatively inexperienced, pilot would have had his hands full of airplane with such an emergency.  We will never know for sure.

    I visited the crash site in the spring of 2005, and found that there was not much left on the peak to indicate that the big bomber had crashed there.  Only a few small pieces of Plexiglas, battery parts, and shards of aluminum marked the spot where ten young airmen had died.  From high up on the  top of this very small and insignificant peak in the middle of nowhere you can plainly see the base at Edwards, and with the help of binoculars, you can just make out the runway on the base.  Making it to that runway was in all likelihood the final thoughts in the minds of the crew on ship 358.  Now their spirits will forever be peering down from the jagged rocks on the desolate Mojave Desert mountain known as Sunday Peak.


Don R. Jordan
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ADF Control Box photo Copyright Don R. Jordan
B-24J photo courtesy of the U.S.A.F. museum.