| Original caption: “Take off from the deck of the USS Hornet of an Army B-25 on its way to take part in first United States air raid on Japan. Doolittle Raid.” A United States Army Air Force (USAAF) North American B-25B Mitchell bomber takes off from USS Hornet (CV-8) at the start of the Doolittle raid on Japan. The 2 white stripes on deck were to help guide the pilots in taking off. On the signal bridge, watching the takeoff, are United States Navy Coxswain Clarence M. “Bob” Logsdon (February 3, 1919 – November 16, 2009), shorter man in foreground, and United States Navy Signalman 1st Class Allen Q. Nations (April 21, 1919 – October 26, 1942), directly behind him. They are wearing M1917 “Brodie” pattern steel helmets. Nations perished at the battle of Santa Cruz Islands when a Japanese Aichi D3A “Val” dive bomber crashed into the Hornet’s signal bridge. The message United States Navy Admiral William F. “Bull” Halsey Junior (October 30, 1882 – August 16, 1959) flashed to United States Navy Captain Marc A. “Pete” Mitscher (January 26, 1887 – February 3, 1947) on the Hornet was sent at 0800 Hours: LAUNCH PLANES X TO COLONEL DOOLITTLE AND GALLANT COMMAND GOOD LUCK AND GOD BLESS YOU. USAAF Lieutenant Colonel James H. “Jimmy” Doolittle (December 14, 1896 – September 27, 1993), on the Hornet’s bridge when the message came, hurriedly shook hands with Mitscher and leaped down the ladder to his cabin, shouting to everybody he saw, “O.K. fellas, this is it! Let’s go!” At the same time, the blood-chilling klaxon sounded, and the announcement came over the loudspeaker: “Army pilots, man your planes!” USAAF Lieutenant Ted W. Lawson (March 7, 1917 – January 19, 1992), waiting his turn in the “Ruptured Duck,” described their leader’s takeoff: “With full flaps, motors at full throttle and his left wing far out over the port side of the Hornet, Doolittle’s plane waddled and then lunged slowly into the teeth of the gale that swept down the deck. His left wheel stuck on the white line as if it were a track. His right wing, which had barely cleared the wall of the island as he taxied and was guided up to the starting line, extended nearly to the edge of the starboard side. We watched him like hawks, wondering what the wind would do to him, and whether we could get off in that little run toward the bow. If he couldn’t, we couldn’t. Doolittle picked up more speed and held to his line, and, just as the Hornet lifted up on top of a wave and cut through it at full speed, Doolittle’s plane took off. He had yards to spare. He hung his ship almost straight up on its props, until we could see the whole top of his B-25. Then he leveled off, and I watched him come around in a tight circle and shoot low over our heads— straight down the line painted on the deck. A few yards before the end of the deck, the B-25 lifted into the air. Doolittle yanked the control yoke back into his stomach. Lawson later said, “He hung his ship almost straight up on its props until we could see the whole top of his B-25. Then he leveled off and I watched him come around in a tight circle and shoot low over our heads—straight down the line painted on the deck.” “I didn’t think he would make it,” USAAF Staff Sergeant Jacob D. DeShazer (November 15, 1912 – March 15, 2008) of Crew Number Sixteen later said, “and felt a lot better when I saw the wheels leave the deck in less than four hundred feet of takeoff space.” In his report on the raid, Doolittle said simply, “Takeoff was easy.” Sailors crowded along the flight deck and carrier’s island erupted in cheers. The entire convoy shouted in a surge of relief, a cheer so loud and throaty and ecstatic that the fliers could even hear it above the roar of their props. “The shout that went up should have been heard in Tokyo,” USAAF Major Thomas R. White (March 29, 1909 – November 29, 1992), the mission’s doctor, remembered. “We were all yelling and pounding each other on the back. I don’t think there was a sound pair of vocal cords in the flotilla.” USAAF Major Harry P. Johnson (April 28, 1890 – November 13, 1982), Doolittle’s adjutant aboard Hornet, though, remembered different feelings: “I doubt if one man expected to return alive. I felt so badly about what I thought was certain death that I could not say good-bye to anyone—just a thumbs-up as each took off.” On board the cruiser Salt Lake City (CA-25), Chicago Daily News journalist Robert J. Casey (March 14, 1890 – December 5, 1962) captured the moment in his diary. “First bomber off the Hornet miraculous,” he wrote. “The carrier is diving, deluging deck with white water. The big plane is just about catapulted as the ship lifts out of the sea.” In the skies overhead Doolittle instructed co-pilot USAAF Lieutenant Richard E. Cole (September 7, 1915 – April 9, 2019) to raise the wheels as he circled over the Hornet, where the carrier’s course was displayed in large figures from the gun turret abaft the island. Doolittle paralleled the flight deck, allowing his Navigator, USAAF Lieutenant Henry A. Potter (September 22, 1918 – May 27, 2002) to calculate any error with his magnetic compass before he pressed on toward Tokyo. | |
| Image Filename | wwii1670.jpg |
| Image Size | 1.82 MB |
| Image Dimensions | 5718 x 4570 |
| Photographer | |
| Photographer Title | United States Navy |
| Caption Author | Written or Adapted by Jason McDonald |
| Date Photographed | April 18, 1942 |
| Location | |
| City | |
| State or Province | |
| Country | Pacific Ocean |
| Archive | National Archives and Records Administration |
| Record Number | 80-G-41196 |
| Status | Caption ©2026 MFA Productions LLC Please Do Not Duplicate or Distribute Without Permission; Image in the Public Domain |
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