Bogged Down

Over the Bordeaux-Merignac aerodrome in southwestern France, pilots find it wise to buzz the field once before trying to land. Buzzing disperses the sheep that graze contentedly between the runways. At one end of the field the 126th Bombardment Wing of the U.S. Air Force makes its headquarters.

The 126th's communications office operates in the only usable portion of a sag-roofed shack set amidst girders of a bombed-out hangar. Most of the wing's 48 B-26 bombers are bunched like sitting ducks on a tiny concrete apron before the hangar. One or two, not finding room on the apron, squat dismally on the open field, so deep in mire that even their propeller tips are stuck fast. Theoretically, there is a large, revetted parking area available for the planes--but a French farmer has built a solid house and two barns right in the middle of its taxiway. Through the U.S. base runs a public road always open to French civilian traffic.

Plenty of Navigators. In theory, Merignac is an important U.S. tactical air installation--the first of a series hopefully designed to protect a vital new supply route for U.S. and NATO forces in Europe. But there are no barracks, only tents. The wing's hospital is a jerry-built wooden structure whose ceiling drips water. The wing itself--the only U.S. tactical air outfit anywhere in France--is just as unready. The 126th is an Illinois Air National Guard outfit, originally an observation squadron which served in the Panama Canal Zone in World War II, later a fighter wing. It is commanded by a good airman: a veteran United Air Lines pilot named Frank Allen, 42, who led a B-17 group in North Africa and Europe in World War II. The 126th became a light bomber wing only four months before it was yanked back into federal service last March, got a refresher course of sorts in the States and was transferred to France last October. Half its 1,800 men were taken away to fill vacancies in Korea-bound units or for other reasons, and were replaced by reservists; all its radar technicians were transferred. They were replaced, inexplicably, by a deluge of navigators, enough for two to a plane.

Only 15 of the wing's bombers have crystals needed to tune their radios to combat channels used by the U.S. Air Force in Europe. Although its theoretical mission is to prepare for night intruder operations, none of the planes has radar equipment for night bombing.

The foul-up at Merignac is an international affair. The wing itself, under the command of Brigadier General Allen, has hardly begun to whip itself into shape. The European Air Force command at Wiesbaden fell down on the job of getting Merignac ready for the 126th. And then there are the French.

Fancy Prices for Latrines. Under terms of a formal Franco-American agreement signed last November, the U.S. got the right to establish the Merignac base and other air, ground, ordnance and supply bases in France as part of the new NATO supply line. The French got legal title to all buildings and installations and the right to farm out all construction and repair work to French contractors and laborers. The U.S. had to channel payments through French bureaucracy.

The contracts were let by the Air Force at fancy prices. Examples: $23,800 for 28 wooden tent frames, each 16 by 32 ft.; $6,000 to paint and glaze a six-room shack for Base Operations; $25,720 for three latrines; $45,715 for a combination theater, recreation hall and basketball court. Workers, expecting to get something resembling the wages paid in the U.S., got only 64 francs (19-c- an hour, the lowest possible wage in the Bordeaux area.

The Baa of Sheep. "Of course it's not the fault of the Americans," a French labor union official admitted, "but psychologically the experience has been catastrophic. When the U.S. arrived here it had a chance to show how workers are treated back in America. Instead, it sat back and let a French contracting company run the show. The workers, seeing the American flag, put all the blame on the Americans."

The French around Bordeaux, after a first blush of enthusiasm over the prosperity they thought would arrive with the G.I.s, have now become sour and standoffish toward their guests. The men of the 126th return the uncomfortable apathy, keep to themselves on their weekend excursions to nearby cities and villages and look forward only to the summer when their federal hitches may end and they can go back home.

Meanwhile, the symbol of U.S. air power in France sits hub-deep in the mud, while the sheep baa contentedly along the runways of Merignac field.

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