Marshall McCarroll of Paramount News writes about a trip he took aboard a US Army bomber back on March 13, 1940 in which he and his fellow newsreel cameramen had to put their competitive nature aside and cooperate for five hours to shoot a story that if they were lucky, lasted only a minute on the screen.

“We have just reached 13,000-you had better get your oxygen tubes ready. We are climbing fast and you will soon need them,” came the voice of Chief Pilot Herlick over the interphone. Lieut. Herlick was in command of ship “R 34,” a late “B 18 A” type two-motored Douglas bomber from March Field, California.

The above instruction was given for the benefit of Mervyn Freeman and myself, who were on a camera assignment in ship “34.” We were headed for a spot above the top of Mt. Whitney, which reaches into the sky 14,495 feet. The purpose of the flight was to get a story of contrasts between the cold and snow of Mt. Whitney. America’s highest peak, and the heat and desolation of Death Valley, our lowest point.

To inject action into the picture, March Field authorities provided a formation of three “B 18 A’s” to fly over the mountains while we were shooting. Thus our trip was from March Field to Mt. Whitney, then a long fast dive down to Death Valley, below sea level, and return to March Field. Oh yes! that oxygen! I did as the pilot advised and opened the valve on the oxygen tank close beside me. You see, I was riding in the bombardier’s closed-in compartment in the nose of the plane and being slightly separated from the main cabin, a separate oxygen tank was provided. Other tanks supplied the crew and Freeman, who was shooting out the door near the rear of the plane. This oxygen business fascinated me, for it was my first experience in the use of it.

As we climbed steadily to a maximum of 17,000 feet to fly over the mountains, I experimented a little. I would work without it until things began to go black, which occurred in four or five minutes, then by putting the oxygen tube into my mouth and breathing from it, I was surprised to find that in just exactly one minute’s time, everything would become normal again. Great stuff, this oxygen!

Perhaps you are wondering why a Pathe cameraman and a Paramount cameraman were working on the same story and in the same plane. This makes an interesting topic of discussion, as it is only on this type of occasion that much cooperation between competitive newsreel companies is evident. The Army and Navy have a ruling that whenever several newsreel companies request a similar picture, they shall be accommodated simultaneously and equally. The Army further rules that when circumstances prevent a cameraman from each company making his own complete story, due to lack of Army facilities, a “rota” arrangement be worked out and all exposed film pooled so that all companies have access to everything shot. In this case, all five newsreel companies had requested the flight, but only one camera plane was available, so that meant drawing lots to determine who would do the shooting.

Among ourselves we decided upon three shooting positions-one in the door of the camera ship, shooting toward the side, drawn by Freeman; one in the nose looking forward and down, drawn by me; and one in a formation plane to make closeups and cut-in shots of the pilots, etc., which was drawn by Frank Blackwell of Universal. Sanford Greenwald, of News of the Day, and Al Brick, of Movietone, drew the slips calling for build-up material on the ground. Thus each company had one man working, obtaining the benefit of five camera locations, and at the same time causing the least inconvenience to the Army.

We anticipated extreme cold around Mt. Whitney, so Freeman and I dressed in fur lined flying suits, shoes and helmets. We found later that the temperature indicator in the cabin fell to minus 20 degrees C, which is just a little below zero as we know it. Mervyn Freeman was very glad he had the warm clothing, because working in an open doorway with a terrific wind blast was certainly not so hot. Especially did he sense the cold when he looked down at the solidly frozen mountain lakes plainly visible among the peaks of the High Sierra. Everybody was much surprised and disappointed to find Mt. Whitney completely bare. At this time of year we anticipated beautiful snow scenes, but apparently our “unusual” hot fall weather with lack of rain and snow had allowed Mt. Whitney to shed its white mantle.

In the nose of the plane I was quite comfortable in the zero weather due to the modern conveniences installed in Army bombers. A far cry from the days of old, this plane had a forced draft hot air heating system which keeps the pilots and crew warm under all conditions. In fact, while Mervyn and his camera were both slowly freezing up in the open doorway in the rear, I was forced to remove my flying suit in order to keep from perspiring. Blackwell, working in plane No. 64 in the formation, also had the benefit of the heating system.

Having arrived at Mt. Whitney, the three planes flew over and around the peak several times while we ground enough film for our story. Due to bumpy air over the mountains, it was difficult to get smooth shots. This forced us to circle around that vicinity for about an hour before each cameraman signaled the pilot “Okay.” This bumpy flying had its effect upon the stomachs of each of us to a greater or lesser degree. I just managed to contain myself, but one of the still men riding with us lost control completely and was forced to withdraw from the combat.

After that it was but a half hour’s glide from 17,000 feel down to the north end of Death Valley. We started in near Scotty’s castle and flew below sea level over the sand dunes and salt beds, coming out the south end of the Valley, then up over the San Bernardino Mountains through Cajon Pass, landing at March Field just five hours after leaving our starting point. Through the eyes of the five newsreel men who covered this story, over 50 million people in the United States will see on the screen of their favorite movie theatre the highest and lowest points of our great country in less than a minute’s time, but it took us five hours by air to make this possible.

Some of Frank Blackwell’s footage of the flight can be watched here.