case of the devastated Devastator, The

Flight Journal, Dec 2001 by Tillman, Barrett

On September 2, 1943, Ensign Bruce Mallory was flying an obsolete Douglas TBD-1 Devastator (Bureau No. 0353) on a training mission east of Miami, Florida, that developed a runaway propeller; Mallory ditched it in international waters. Six days later, the plane was officially stricken from the Navy roster. By 1944, none of the 130 Devastators produced were left.

The Devastator was significant in U.S. naval aviation history. In 1937, it became the first carrier-based monoplane in the fleet, and it was the only torpedo plane available during the first six months of the war in the Pacific. Its career effectively ended, however, on the morning of June 4, 1942. Three "TorpRons" from USS Yorktown, Enterprise and Hornet attacked Japanese carriers off Midway atoll. Of the 41 launched, only four survived. The sacrifice of their crews forms an integral part of naval aviation heritage.

Forty-seven years after Ensign Mallory's ditching, the Weeden Co., a marine salvage company, found his Devastator in 500 feet of water. In November 1990, Weeden contacted Doug Champlin, owner of a unique fighter aircraft museum in Mesa, Arizona. Weeden had also approached the Navy, expecting that the National Museum of Naval Aviation (NMNA) in Pensacola, Florida, would be thrilled to save this aircraft, so Champlin declined his offer, pending the Navy's decision. "I just could not believe that the Navy wouldn't want that Devastator," Champlin recalled.

Weeden set a February 1991 deadline for the Navy to decide. Citing inadequate funds, NMNA did decline and lost the opportunity to save the world's last Devastator.

With the path presumably clear, Champlin, in April 1991, purchased the location of the Devastator from Weeden and made plans to retrieve the plane, but Champlin never intended to keep it. His main interest is in fighters; he hoped to raise the Devastator and then trade it to NMNA for two unrestored Grumman Wildcats-an offer that warbird pilots and historians described as "a screaming deal."

To protect the underwater site from third parties, in 1995, Champlin's Windward Aviation filed an admiralty lien at NMNA's request. The Department of Justice, however, on behalf of the Navy, ordered Windward to dismiss the case before proceeding with the deal. Three years passed without progress, so Champlin announced his intention to retire the admiralty lien.

During the interim, Champlin and marine salvor Robert Mester had formed International Aircraft Recovery, LLC. Previously, Champlin had used a three-man submersible to survey the Devastator and had noted the Bureau of Aeronautics number on its tail. A check with the Tailhook Association showed that 0353 had been flown from the USS Yorktown against Japanese carriers in the Battle of the Coral Sea in May 1942-a fact unknown to NMNA.

At that point, things began to go haywire. "Before any trades were finalized, the Navy wanted to ascertain whether the aircraft was restorable," Champlin explains. "Later, they denied it, but that's why we sent the submersible down and recovered the Devastator's canopy." However, when Champlin raised the canopy to comply with an admiralty court order, the Navy, through the Justice Department, demanded its return under threat of fine and jail. Champlin realized that he had been blind-sided.

Furthermore, NMNA insisted that the Navy, or a salvor of its choice, should recover the Devastator. NMNA director Capt. Robert Rasmussen (ret.) was quoted saying that it was "priceless" and would represent "the crown jewel" in the NMNA's collection. Considering that the Navy had previously dealt equitably with other salvors, why the hostility toward Champlin? The question remains unanswered.

The situation was further clouded by the Navy's efforts to recover a Martin Mariner from Lake Washington near Seattle in 1993 and 1995. The project resulted in one Navy diver being killed and another crippled, and the historic flying boat was destroyed. The U.S. Navy's inability to raise an intact aircraft from a shallow lake prompted questions about whether it would be able to retrieve vintage aircraft from the ocean depths.

Overlying this lengthy legal battle was a scandal in the military museum community. A civilian contractor for NMNA had managed to obtain 11 Lockheed C-130s (valued at roughly $1 million each) for only $200,000. Subsequently, the contractor sued the Navy for another $7 million for missing and spare parts. Despite NMNA's efforts to suppress the news, it became public knowledge: "The Navy agreed to seal depositions in the case," says Florida attorney David Paul Horan. "They did not want the facts to come out."

Other information was also obscured. In 1974, Robert Wright, an Oregon warbird restorer, asked for permission to retrieve a crashed Douglas SBD for parts. He was given approval by the Navy Materiel Management Division that read: "The aircraft crashed and was stricken from the Navy inventory records. Due to the inaccessibility of the aircraft, it was abandoned as being too expensive to attempt recovery. As the aircraft has been abandoned, the Navy has no objection to anyone, you or other parties, salvaging parts from this aircraft."