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· <strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong><br />

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<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y <br />

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Picture credit<br />

Front cover:<br />

Aircraft peeling-off Photo 44S th BG - Courtesy of William Dewey<br />

B-24 with open bomb bay - Phot 44Sth BG - Courtesy of Ed Barnes<br />

Page 7:<br />

Julienne and Lucien Courtesy of Lucien Dewez<br />

Page 10:<br />

The Vickers crew - Courtesy of Keith Roberts.<br />

Illustration a:<br />

The Dimick crew Courtesy of Nelson Dimick<br />

The Isom crew Courtesy ofEd Barnes<br />

The Modern Knight - Courtesy of the 392 nd BG Association<br />

Luc Dewez © Copyright 2002


3<br />

CONTENTS <br />

Contents<br />

Preface<br />

Acknowledgements<br />

httroduction<br />

Chapter One<br />

Chapter Two<br />

Chapter Three<br />

Chapter Four<br />

Chapter Five<br />

Chapter Six<br />

Epilogue<br />

The preparation<br />

The Flight<br />

The Fight<br />

The Bail Out<br />

The Way Back<br />

The Aftermath<br />

3<br />

4<br />

9<br />

11<br />

13<br />

33<br />

47<br />

81<br />

107<br />

125<br />

137<br />

Appendixes<br />

Appendix I<br />

Appendixll<br />

A Navigational Error<br />

The Crews<br />

139<br />

148<br />

Sources<br />

151


C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

4<br />

PREFACE <br />

My name is Luc Dewez. I am a Belgian who was too young to have any personal<br />

recollections of World War II but who has read, and been moved to write, about the then<br />

young men who did take part in that war.<br />

As a result of a long chain of circumstances, I was invited to attend the Rededication<br />

of the American Air Museum in Britain by some of the friends I have met through my<br />

research. Specifically, I have assisted in their search for another B-24 named The Niagara<br />

Special of the 392 nd Bomb Group, Second Air Division, 8 th Air Force, which was lost on<br />

January 16, 1945.<br />

In May 1997, in the Irvine Hyatt Regency Hotel, California, while attending a<br />

reunion of the Second Air Division Association, I went from the hospitality room of one<br />

group to another in an effort to meet new acquaintances and to gather additional personal<br />

stories.<br />

In the hospitality room of the 392nd Bomb Group, one of the men I met was Keith<br />

Roberts, a navigator. He was selecting pictures from the archive files to illustrate the latest<br />

book by his friend and former pilot, Robert Vickers, about their group's ground personnel.<br />

We introduced ourselves, spoke about a lot of things, including Belgian beers, while<br />

sharing some U.S. ones.<br />

In September 1997, I received a letter from Keith. He and Bob Vickers intended to<br />

return to France to visit the location where their plane, The Niagara Special, crashed and<br />

where they had landed after parachuting. They were corresponding with Mr. Bernard<br />

Michel who was trying to find eyewitnesses who saw them in Doncourt-Ies-Conflans on<br />

January 16, 1945. Bob and Keith, at Mr. Michel's request, were looking for an interpreter<br />

and would love to have me do it. I immediately said YES.<br />

This started a series of letters and phone call exchanges with Mr. Michel. This<br />

French gentleman was an amateur historian, as am I, and well aware of the aviation history<br />

of his region. He was the key man in the following events for it was he who fOlUld that The<br />

Niagara Special had crashed nearly 10 miles away from the village Bob and Keith were<br />

planning to visit! It was not Doncourt-Ies-Conflans, the crash site was at Mouaville!


Preface<br />

5<br />

And I heard the whole nine yards. In June 1994, his childhood friend, Louis Gutvin,<br />

had inadvertently convinced Bob Vickers, mostly by hand gestures, that the pilot had found<br />

the place while he was traveling between Verdun and Metz. Answering a letter from Keith<br />

(translated by Linda Klein, a Newport Beach librarian), Louis Gutvein gave him Bernard<br />

Michel's address. And, Bernard's skill unlocked the mystery. As a result, Bob and Keith<br />

switched our rendezvous to the main street of Mouaville at 1:00 PM on January 15, 1998.<br />

My wife Sophie and I drove from Ham-sur-Sambre, Belgium, to Mouaville, France.<br />

We stopped at the very first house, which is also a farm. There, we met Gabriel Albrech,<br />

farmer and mayor of this very little village: 70 inhabitants. Bernard Michel joined us for a<br />

meal and I learned that the mayor remembered The Niagara Special flying over his head<br />

when he was an eight year old schoolboy. After the meal, we headed for the old primary<br />

school building, now the "mairie" (the Mayor's office). Several eyewitnesses to the 1945<br />

event were gathered outside. The old classroom housed a long table, covered with empty<br />

Champagne glasses. But their destiny was not to remain in such a state in light of the large<br />

number ofChampagne bottles in evidence and waiting to meet their fate.<br />

Then, they came - our heroes - Bob Vickers, Keith Roberts, and Bill Nock, the waist<br />

gunner and armorer on The Niagara Special.<br />

It was the beginning of three moving and busy days for me. Moving, to help my<br />

friends go back to 1945, and busy, as I talked for three days in a row. But I, nor any of the<br />

others were ever allowed to run dry. Our glasses were always full of Champagne, or red<br />

wine, or Mirabelle (plum-based white alcohol), wherever the three Americans and the two<br />

Belgians went. A strong friendship developed, the kind that makes any separation hard to<br />

take. While Bob, Keith, Bill, Sophie, and I were enjoying the nice bed-and-breakfast ("La<br />

Ferme des Vales"), it was like being with family.<br />

It was with a great deal of sadness when we said goodbye to Bob, Keith and Bill, as<br />

they left to search for Bill's landing place (they found it).<br />

In any event, the year 1998 really started on a high note. One month later, on<br />

Valentine's day, Sophie offered me a pair of baby shoes. She was expecting a baby in<br />

November - our first child. It was great. In addition, I was planning to meet Bob Vickers in<br />

the USA that same year. Hodgkin's disease for me and a rough landing on earth for our<br />

little daughter, Marie, cause the cancellation ofmy overseas trip that year.


C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

6<br />

I had to wait until March 2001 before I was made aware of Bob Vickers plan to<br />

return to France in 2002 and see me and Sophie once again at Mouaville for "one last<br />

look." Bob also told me about his plan to visit Duxford (England) for the dedication of the<br />

B-24 undergoing restoration there. From that time on, Bob's e-mails or letters to me all<br />

contained a mention of Duxford.<br />

They reached a crescendo when Bob told me proudly that his ship Dugan (The<br />

Niagara Special's successor) had been chosen to come to life in Duxford. The four-leaf<br />

clover nose art and the 392 nd BG colors of Dugan would lead the 4000 B-24 aircraft flying<br />

from England with the 8 th Air Force. The restored B-24 would wear his "blazon" at the<br />

brand-new, rededicated Duxford American Air Museum. Former President George H. W.<br />

Bush and some, at that time, undisclosed members of the British Royal Family would<br />

highlight the event by their presence.<br />

For me, the icing on the cake was that Bob listed me in the Dugan's wwn crew &<br />

family associates list as Dugan Crew's French GuidelInterpreter! I was a member of his<br />

crew.<br />

Did all those things come together simply by chance? Or was it destiny?<br />

Because it didn't stop with the event itself, the date of this rededication, September<br />

27, is particularly meaningful for me. It is also the date of the mission in 1944 to Kassel,<br />

Gennany by the 445th Bomb Group, Second Air Division. On this mission the 445th lost<br />

22 aircraft in a couple of minutes. One of the books I have written, "Cruel Sky," is about<br />

the experiences ofthe personnel and the planes of the 445th BG during this mission.<br />

I find this occasion appropriate to celebrate the anniversary of that fateful mission,<br />

to remember the men who flew Dugan, and to remember the men who, in the cause of<br />

freedom, flew the other thousands of planes from England.<br />

The following account, "Cruel Sky," is the result of a powerful attraction between a<br />

woman and a man - two people who had met and fought during World War II - my parents.<br />

Even though they were deeply involved in resistance acts against the Germans, they told me<br />

very little about their activities (the were both awarded the Belgian Croix de Guerre). After<br />

all, Mom and Dad thought that all they had done was just their duty. They were more<br />

inclined to speak about the others, and mostly about the Allied soldiers.


Preface<br />

7<br />

My parents remembered vividly the endless<br />

formations of U.S. heavy bombers cruising slowly<br />

over Belgium, looking like small crosses shining in<br />

the sun, but sometimes smoking.<br />

After the war, my father was with the Allied<br />

occupation forces in Germany. Lucien was then a<br />

Sergeant in the Belgian Military Liaison, attached<br />

to the British XXX Corps (Here with his fiancee,<br />

Julienne, my mother, during a leave in Belgium).<br />

In the forest one day, hidden among the<br />

trees, he found the tail of a Flying Fortress. He was<br />

deeply impressed by the overall dimensions of the<br />

thing, which was as big as a fighter!<br />

This began my interest in the history of World War II. <br />

As an 8 year-old, I had adopted unusual boyhood heroes<br />

w<br />

the American bomber <br />

crews. But they seemed as unreachable as Superman was for the other kids, like they were<br />

from some twilight zone and were still fighting a never-ending World Warn. An<br />

unexpected opportunity, more than twenty years later, changed all that and led to my first<br />

trip to the States.<br />

The place was Dayton, Ohio, the date was September 1996, and the subjects of my<br />

visit were the airmen of the 44Sth Bomb Group (Heavy). Finally, this young man from<br />

Belgium had the opportunity to meet his boyhood heroes. Among this group were the<br />

survivors of the most terrible beating a Mighty Eighth Group had ever sustained.<br />

At that time, no book was fully dedicated to this aerial carnage so I decided to make<br />

my modest contribution to saving a piece of history for the generations to come.<br />

I hope you will feel this account to be something more that a mere compilation of 47<br />

Americans telling how they had lived their September 27 th , 1944. Its sometimes laconic<br />

style is caused by the fact that I stuck to the veterans' recollections. Some are more


C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

8<br />

disposed than others to tum their emotions and memories into words. I respect this<br />

diversity so I decided to use their replies to my questionnaire as the main source of<br />

information.<br />

Some readers may be disappointed by the many characters appearing in "Cruel Sky."<br />

Be patient, it will all come together. I have written this account in a somewhat unusual<br />

way, different in style from many other books. But the structure itself is a story, telling<br />

how individuals from different backgrounds were united in combat crews. That unity,<br />

however, was shattered when the crews were shot down. In Germany, they were<br />

individuals again.<br />

I have accented the individuality of men fighting in a global conflict. The whole<br />

process seems to be out of their control but they are part of it, and consequently, involved in<br />

its evolution - both actors and spectators.


9<br />

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS<br />

First, I wish to acknowledge the following people who lived the so-called Kassel<br />

mission. They made this book possible in answering my very long questionnaire. They are<br />

not sorted by alphabetical order but listed by squadrons:<br />

700 th Sgd.<br />

Web L. UEBELHOER<br />

Donald D. WHITEFIELD<br />

Robert L. SIMS<br />

Fabian S. MACK<br />

Carroll G. SNIDOW<br />

Nelson L. DIMICK (TAPS)<br />

HarryF. TACHOV<strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Dwight F. GALYON<br />

Raphael E. CARROW<br />

John. E. FRENCH<br />

Charles A. HUDDLESTUN (TAPS)<br />

Herbert R. SCHWARTZ<br />

702 nd Sqd.<br />

FrankJ. BERTRAM<br />

Mertis C. THORNTON Jr.<br />

Lawrence S. BOWERS<br />

Milton H. LEE<br />

Warren B. PENDLETON<br />

Willis A. MEIER<br />

Malcom J. MacGREGOR<br />

Ammi H. MILLER<br />

Charles J. GRAHAM<br />

Ira P. WEINSTEIN<br />

Raymond W. RAY<br />

Bobby C. McGOUGH<br />

Corman H. BEAN<br />

George M. COLLAR<br />

James C. BAYNHAM<br />

Howard L. BOLDT<br />

John Ray LEMONS<br />

JohnW.KNOX<br />

Eugene GEORGE Jr.<br />

Sammy S. WEINER<br />

70i st Sgd.<br />

Jack LASWELL<br />

William R. DEWEY<br />

Charles CRAIG<br />

James T. WITHEY<br />

James T. ENGLEMAN<br />

Peter S. BELITSOS<br />

Jack M. ERICKSON (TAPS)<br />

Henry DOBEK<br />

703 rd Sdq.<br />

Edward BARNES<br />

Paul M. DICKERSON<br />

Jackson C. MERCER (TAPS)<br />

Harry L. WHEATON (TAPS)<br />

James E. DOWLING<br />

Frank T. PLESA<br />

Joseph J. WOZNIAK


10 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Also:<br />

Bill Dewey, President ofthe Kassel Mission Memorial Association<br />

Brad King and his team from the Film & Video Archive Department, Imperial War<br />

Museum, London. They kindly opened their service to a Belgian amateur "historian"<br />

William Dixon, my editor and friend (a former 100th BG waist gunner)<br />

Chantal De Brabanter, graphic designer<br />

Last but not least, Robert E. Vickers and Keith E. Roberts from<br />

The Vickers crew:<br />

Standing: Vickers (P) - Schwarzer (CP) - Roberts (N) - Shaner (B)<br />

Kneeling: Markham (E) - Moore (RO) - Nock (WG) Carter (WG) Leinweber (TG) - Henthorn (NG)<br />

Courtesy ofKeith Roberts<br />

To all ofyou, my heartfelt thanks.


11<br />

INTRODUCTION <br />

On Thursday, September 28 th , 1944, The London Edition of "The Stars and Stripes,"<br />

the daily newspaper of United States Armed Forces in the European Theater of Operations,<br />

taught its daily French lesson:<br />

Ou habitez-vous? - 00 abeeTA Y voo? - Where do you live?<br />

Under this somewhat frivolous addendum, a huge headline announced the end of the<br />

resistance of the British paratroopers besieged in Arnhem. Actually, two-thirds ofthe front<br />

page was dedicated to the bravery and fighting spirit ofthe Arnhem survivors, and the fight<br />

inside the corridor opened by this big push. The Market-Garden operation, which was<br />

planned to end the war before Christmas and send the boys back home, was over. The<br />

Germans were no more "kaput" than their Japanese allies.<br />

The Office of War Information stated: '~The task of crushing Japan is expected to<br />

require an 'absolute minimum' of one and a halfto two years after the defeat ofGermany."<br />

No, war was not over, and the allied soldiers would not be home for Christmas. On<br />

all fronts, death was taking a fearful toll. The vertical front, extending over four miles high<br />

in the sky of Western Europe, was not exempt from the carnage. In the same issue of "The<br />

Stars and Stripes," a Lt. Arthur Shay, navigator on the Liberator Patty Girl: "The Luftwaffe,<br />

well over 100 of them, picked us up several minutes after we had bombed our target at<br />

Kassel. They came in at 15 abreast and were strung out like a football forward wall. On<br />

every side Libs from our group were burning and exploding and men were bailing out,<br />

delaying the opening oftheir chutes until they had cleared the combat area."<br />

From a reader's point of view, it was just another bloody episode ofthe "around the<br />

clock" offensive which was raining bombs on the third Reich. But, for Lt. Arthur Shay and<br />

the men of the 445 th Heavy Bomb Group of the Eighth Air Force, it was a terrible reminder<br />

that life was short and could end at any time. This Group had, as had every group in the<br />

European Theater of Operations (ETO) been badly mauled previously. On a mission to<br />

Gotha, they had lost a total of 13 aircraft.


12 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

But Gotha had been in February 1944 and, since D-Day the previous June, the<br />

Luftwaffe was showing less of a presence and some even considered the Gennan Luftwaffe<br />

as eradicated. The newer crews had never seen a Gennan fighter. The mission that they<br />

had earlier chalked up as a "milk run" was to result, however, in a sky full of debris from<br />

exploding ships. As with the men who had flown the Gotha mission, this mission to Kassel<br />

left an indelible mark on the survivors. The wild blue yonder could tum into a cruel sky.


The Preparation<br />

13<br />

Chapter 1<br />

THE PREPARATION <br />

Very early on September 27 th , 1944, a Jeep came to a screeching halt in front of a<br />

Nissen hut, a semicircular building with an arching roof of corrugated steel over a cement<br />

floor. These were the basic quarters for American air force crews stationed all over the<br />

East Anglian countryside. Station 124 was an airfield sandwiched between two small<br />

villages: Tivetshall and Tibenham, some 14 miles south ofNorwich. It was the home ofthe<br />

445 th Bomb Group (Heavy) which consisted of more than 40 B-24s (also called the<br />

Liberator) and 3000 young Americans.<br />

Second Lieutenant Leo P. Pouliot heard the door creaking slightly and shufiling<br />

footsteps in the dark around 2nd L1. George Noorigian's bed .. After turning on the lights,<br />

the "Gremlin," as Pouliot called the Operations Clerk, came back to shake the pilot, 1st L1.<br />

Jackson C. Mercer, announcing, "Briefing at 04:30." He then left the hut, got in his Jeep<br />

and drove on to wake up another crew. Rather than getting up immediately, the copilot<br />

covered his head with the blankets for a last luxurious minute in the sack, shivering at the<br />

thought of getting up in the cold. Finally he could put it off no longer. As usual, the pilot<br />

was the first out, Pouliot next, then the bombardier and fmally the boy who was born to<br />

sleep, navigator 2nd L1. Milton H. Fandler.<br />

Around the base, other men were dashing into the living quarters, switching on the<br />

lights, shaking the cots, and muttering something about briefing time. Name-calling of<br />

these poor unfortunates was not rare, although they were just doing their jobs. First<br />

Lieutenant James T. Withey was not awakened as scheduled for what was to be his last<br />

mission. Later in the morning, his pilot warned the control tower that he was taking off<br />

without his navigator. A jeep drove back to the living area and hurried Withey to the flight<br />

line. The tower notified his crew he was there but they did not come back to pick him up.<br />

After the mission was completed, the pilot told the annoyed navigator that he wasn't about<br />

to turn around, land, and takeoff again just to pick him up for this "milk run" mission. As a<br />

result, Whithey still had one more mission to fly to complete his tour.


14 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

The crews scheduled were aware, or should have been aware, that they had been put<br />

on standby for the mission as a list was always posted the day before on the bulletin board.<br />

But sometimes, unexpected developments induced "minor changes."<br />

Second Lieutenant Peter S. Belitsos rolled over to go back to sleep when he saw that<br />

the operations clerk did not wake up his pilot, 1 st Lt. Edward J. Speers. Sleep, however,<br />

was not to be as Belitsos was shaken and told that he was flying with 2nd Lt. Palmer M.<br />

Bruland.<br />

Second Lieutenant George M. Collar was also surprised when somebody rousted him<br />

out of bed. He had planned to leave for London that morning, a three-day pass in his<br />

pocket. Instead, he was assigned to 1 st Lt. James Schaen's crew. Second Lieutenant<br />

Richard J. Aarvig, their bombardier, had failed to return from London.<br />

Technical Sergeant Howard L. Boldt was out of his double-deck bunk and in the<br />

process ofgetting the non-commissioned officers on his crew up when a Jeep stopped at the<br />

hut next to them. Then the Jeep started up again and stopped in front of their Nissen.<br />

When the charge of quarters (CQ) came in, his job was completed. Boldt went to the wash<br />

room, scooped a couple handfuls of water on his face and shaved. There was very little<br />

warm water for washing in the morning. Hot water did not last too long so it was cold<br />

showers for the sack lovers.<br />

Howard Boldt was born in Houston, Texas on Sept 1, 1920. He grew up working in<br />

his father's automobile repair shop and loved mechanical work. He married June 6, 1941,<br />

and worked in a defense plant, Moses Steel, a heavy structural shop. He had a deferment<br />

but decided to join the Army in October 1942. His grandmother was upset because he was<br />

going to bomb his cousins. His grandparents on both sides of his family came from<br />

Germany. He told her he was American, not German. He went in as a mechanic but<br />

somewhere started training as an aerial gunner. He was sent to B-24 school at Keesler<br />

Field, and then to the Consolidated factory in San Diego for more training. He was made<br />

flight engineer and joined his crew at Peterson Field in Colorado Springs.<br />

Radio operator, T/Sgt. James T. Fields was from California. Bubbly and full of<br />

vigor, he liked to dance, gambled a bit, and always had fun. In contrast, S/Sgt. Olen C.<br />

Byrd, one of the oldest on the crew, came from a farming area in Texas. Though at times


The Preparation<br />

15<br />

he seemed to be the one who liked to be alone, he was the one who always could be<br />

depended on to do a top job.<br />

On'December 7, 1941, the newly married John Ray Lemons signed up to become an<br />

air cadet, along with two other co-workers at his place of employment. They hoped to<br />

become fighter pilots. They all passed the written tests and the physical exam· except the<br />

final examining doctor questioned a scar on Lemons's left leg. He said he could not pass<br />

him without a waiver - which was sent to Washington D. C. After much delay no answer<br />

came and he was inducted into the army and later assigned to the Army Air Force.<br />

Because the ball turret was no longer used, the Baynham crew alternated leaving a<br />

gunner on the ground. Today they had to fly with only one Lord, the real one. The other<br />

one, S/Sgt. Edwin L. Lord, would stay behind this time. This was the second time the<br />

armorer and former ball turret gunner did not fly with his crew.<br />

Sergeant Boldt donned a pair of one-piece fatigues, G. I. shoes, a jacket and took off<br />

to hit the latrine which was situated in a small adjacent building. On his merry way, he<br />

remembered the day he heard someone yell that the latrine was on fire. It looked as if the<br />

whole inside was burning with a lot of white smoke coming out. A couple of guys crawled<br />

out on their hands and knees with their pants around their ankles and blood in their eyes.<br />

Someone had cut open a cartridge from a red flare and lit it right inside the door. The floor<br />

was wet, as this was where the large can that served as a urinal was located. The poor<br />

victims would have shot the person who did the foul deed but they never found him.<br />

Sometimes a .45 calibre bullet was "inadvertently" dropped into the small black<br />

stove, slow in producing warmth and hungry for coal but warm enough to let the bullet<br />

explode, stimulating the whole complement to vacate the place in a hurry. Otherwise, the<br />

hut was rather quiet with men playing cards, filling the Nissen from end to end with<br />

cigarette smoke, writing letters, or listening to the radio. The Armed Forces radio was the<br />

official broadcasting and music dispenser but Axis Sally and Lord Haw Haw had their<br />

enthusiasts too.<br />

Another occupation was laundry. The guys soaked their wool class A-uniforms in a<br />

tub of 100-plus octane aviation fuel swiped from the planes. It was an excellent cleaning<br />

fluid. Then they hung them on a wire fence. Within minutes the uniforms were dry, the<br />

blowing wind wafting away the odor of gas. Others preferred to tum the job over to


16 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

civilians living near the base who then became a constant source of clean clothing. The<br />

"customers" had to supply the soap and two dollars for washing and ironing a sack full of<br />

clothes.<br />

When they were not busy flying combat or practice missions, the crews seemed to<br />

keep more or less to themselves. None of them associated very much outside their own<br />

crew even when on leave. Some were addicted to unusual activities that would be<br />

considered slightly abnormal for an officer in the Army Air Force. Second Lieutenant<br />

Walter E. George Jr. went offbase alone, carrying a sketchpad that he filled with drawings.<br />

He admired the historic buildings ofthe English landscape. He also browsed bookstores.<br />

When he was not writing letters home, 2nd Lt. Nelson L. Dimick did a bit of sailing<br />

and swimming on the Broads. His life on base was centered on the Officers' Club which<br />

opened at 04:00 ~M. There were periodic dances with girls brought in from Norwich and<br />

surrounding towns. There was a tendency for some to remain on base for a couple of days.<br />

This upset the chaplain no end.<br />

This morning, as was the case before every mission, hundreds of airmen were now<br />

wandering their way down the long path to the mess hall. There were some signs ofrain as<br />

they plodded through some mud left over from the last rain. The darkness of the night,<br />

worsened by the blackout condition, made the trip rather hazardous. Boldt and his men got<br />

on their bikes and peddled over to the mess hall.<br />

The bicycle made transportation easier on and off the base. An auction was held<br />

regularly to sell the bikes of crews that were lost or had completed their tour. But as did<br />

flak and fighters, bicycles took their toll too, particularly when riders were full of English<br />

beer and pedalling in pitch-black darkness. British bikes had brakes on the handlebars<br />

while the Americans were accustomed to coaster brakes. Yankee bikers had to remember<br />

the left hand activated the rear brake and the right was used to actuate the front brake.<br />

More than one rider ended up over the handlebars after using the wrong hand or hitting the<br />

front brake too hard.<br />

Some men, including 1st Lt. Henry Dobek, made a stop at the Catholic chapel.<br />

Dobek had been interested in flying since he was nine years old, and began to build model<br />

aircraft and read articles about airplanes. Occasionally an old biplane landed at a grass<br />

field about three miles from his home. He would run to the field to watch as the plane


The Preparation<br />

17<br />

would take-off and land, taking passengers on IS-minute rides. The cost was $3.00 but, in<br />

the middle of the Depression, very few people could afford the price of an airplane ride.<br />

Today, however, his ride would be free.<br />

Staff Sergeant John W. Knox, T/Sgt. Fabian S. Mack:, and S/Sgt. Harty F. Tachovsky<br />

were waiting to receive communion from Father Joseph Quinlan, the Base Catholic<br />

Chaplain. They needed all the help they could get.<br />

Along with his Catholic missal, 1st Lt. Frank J. Bertram always carried a miniature<br />

baseball glove, a gift from his wife. Another of the men who attended the service before<br />

each mission was 2nd Lt. Bobby C. McGough.<br />

Meanwhile, the early birds were slowly swallowing their breakfasts. Some just<br />

could not eat - butterflies had taken over their stomachs like planes on their hardstands.<br />

Others were grumbling about the chow, and particularly about the powdered eggs.<br />

One day, T ISgt. Robert L. Sims had eaten in the ground crew mess and found this a<br />

terrible experience. So Sims swiped food from the officers' mess and cooked it on the hut's<br />

small coal stove. He did it so well that the officers of the crew joined them for dinner.<br />

Lieutenant George thought it was not a question of ingredients; it was a question of<br />

cooks. Sometimes, he removed his wings to eat in the ground officers' mess hall where he<br />

found the food excellent and well prepared. Today he ate only a small portion of canned<br />

peaches.<br />

Technical Sergeant Sammy S. Weiner sat down to the usual breakfast. "I had no<br />

stomach for the pancakes, those soggy cold cakes, but gulped a cup of coffee. I had flown<br />

over the Channel two days in succession."<br />

The sack lovers hurried themselves to the mess hall where others were already<br />

waiting in line. Lieutenant Pouliot pushed a plateful of messy looking powdered eggs<br />

aside, and ate a peanut butter sandwich between gulps of coffee.<br />

Tail turret guIUler S/Sgt. Frank T. Plesa never missed a briefmg, even when a black<br />

cat had crossed his path en route to his first one. Even that was not enough to temper the<br />

enthusiasm of this airplane lover, who was so eager he could hardly wait to enlist in the<br />

aviation cadet program offered after graduation from high school. He wanted to be a fighter<br />

pilot but he also wanted to help his older brothers, cousins, close friends, and, in fact,<br />

everyone to end this awful war.


18 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Second Lieutenant Carroll G. Snidow had a strange feeling about this mission ­<br />

number 18 - the halfway mark of his tour. He and navigator 2nd Lt. Maynard "Jonesy"<br />

Jones were figuiing the target would be "Big B" (Berlin). The bombardier, 2nd Lt. Johnny<br />

Friese, was not sure whether he was scheduled or not, so he went to the briefmg room with<br />

his crew. When they entered the room, the lights temporarily blinded the men. Smoking<br />

was allowed and the place was beginning to cloud with blue-gray cigarette smoke. Friese<br />

found he was not scheduled, so he went back to bed. Before leaving, he went to his copilot<br />

and said, "Give 'em hell, Snidow." It was an expression they told each other when one of<br />

them was not flying.<br />

It was an obvious reference to the rhetoric sometimes used by administrative officers<br />

during the briefing. Terms such as "few guns in area" or "fighters grounded," quickly wore<br />

thin after the first .couple of missions. Newcomers would learn on their own that no one<br />

could predict what was going to take place and they would realize then just how serious<br />

war was.<br />

The room was crowded but not very noisy. Everyone was tense and anxious. Where<br />

were they going? At the end of the room, the answer was hidden behind curtains so no one<br />

could foretell exactly what the target would be.<br />

At 04:30 sharp, someone shouted, "T AIN-HUf" and four hundred crewmen snapped<br />

to their feet. Colonel William Jones, the group commander, told them to "be seated," and<br />

walked briskly to the front. The back door was closed and the briefing got under way. The<br />

briefing officer stood up and stepped on stage with a long pointer while the curtains were<br />

drawn back:, exposing the large map of England and the European Continent covering the<br />

front wall. Colored strings attached to the map indicated the routes they were to fly both to<br />

and from the target. This was the time for moans, and groans, depending on where the line<br />

was leading - to a difficult target or some other, ostensibly a milkrun. The target for today<br />

was the Henschel engine and vehicle assembly plant at Kassel, Germany.<br />

Some men, the lead and deputy lead crews, already knew the target. They had been<br />

briefed separately before the main briefing. Generally there were a few days between their<br />

missions. Yesterday, pilot 1st Lt. Reginald R. Miner, had led the 445 th Bomb Group to<br />

Hamm, Germany. Today, Lt. Bennett was scheduled to lead the 702 nd Squadron but his<br />

airplane was grounded. So Miner was directed to lead the squadron two days in a row.


The Preparation<br />

19<br />

445 th had already bombed today's target several times without encountering difficulty, so<br />

this time, too, they expected another grand "milkrun." Miner commiserated with Bennett<br />

and his crew on their concern about missing this mission.<br />

It was a maximum effort for the group, with four 10-ship squadrons. Major Donald<br />

McCoy, 700th Squadron commanding officer, was the command pilot, riding for the<br />

occasion with Capt. John Chilton's crew. Captain James Graham was deputy command<br />

pilot, flying in Capt. Web Uebelhoer's ship.<br />

The 445 th Group was to lead the Second Combat Wing, the other groups in the wing<br />

being respectively the 389 th and the 453 rd Groups.<br />

The S-2 Intelligence officer took over and reported the expected opposition from flak<br />

areas and fighters. Sixty-six heavy and 98 light antiaircraft guns were defending Kassel,<br />

which was the target today. The S-2 highlighted the approach toward the target, the bomb<br />

run and showed photos, drawings, and maps of the Henschel plant. He stressed that the<br />

disposition of enemy fighters was heavily weighted in favor of tactical defense.<br />

This fighter opposition would be in the hands of the Little Friends - one Fighter<br />

Group (FG) ofP47s, one FG ofP38s, and three FGs ofP51s.<br />

The Weather officer stood up and gave his forecast for the successive stages of the<br />

mission, from take-off to landing at base.<br />

First Lieutenant John E. French annotated his pilot briefing leaflet with the basic info<br />

of the mission reviewed by the briefing officer. Take-off on runway 21; group assembly<br />

altitude fixed at 12,000 feet; red-green assembly flares, the code name to throw chaff was<br />

Lazy Bones; at the IP, the call for visual bombing was Ham Bone; Pea Soup was for a<br />

Pathfinder (PFF) drop. Bombing altitude was 23,000 feet.<br />

Lieutenant Snidow reviewed his notes - engine start up time, taxiing time and<br />

position, take-off time, assembly points, weather and fighter cover. He felt greatly relieved<br />

by the combination of fighter protection and extended cloud cover for most of the trip. All<br />

in all, it did not look too bad.<br />

The Navigation officer gave a time "hack" for synchronization of the watches. There<br />

was a cal1 to attention as the group commander departed. The crews were dismissed to<br />

attend separate briefings where pilots, bombardiers, navigators, and radio operators could<br />

gather all sorts of information relating to their specialization.


20 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

The navigators got a detailed weather report, flak gun locations, and anticipated<br />

Luftwaffe opposition. On their maps, they drew the route as planned with Estimated Time<br />

of Arrival (ETA) and the exact location of all key points. The virtual landmarks for<br />

assembly were radio beacons called bunchers and splashers. They were spread all over<br />

East Anglia to help the bomb groups form into their wings, divisions, and the 8th Air Force.<br />

These beacons allowed such formation-building even in complete cloud cover.<br />

Radio operators received the codes of the day as well as the operating frequency<br />

schedule and some special instructions.<br />

After the briefings, the men went to their locker room for suiting up with all the<br />

necessary flying equipment to keep them warm and alive at high altitude. Lieutenant<br />

Pouliot went to the equipment room and asked "Shorty" to give him a 34-38 heated suit and<br />

gloves. As usual, the pants would barely fit him.<br />

Lieutenant Dimick proceeded to don the heated flying suit over his coverall. The<br />

new model came in two pieces that were like a battle jacket and pants of officers green.<br />

Both fastened together by buttons, which carried the circuit from jacket to pants. The<br />

gloves snapped on to the sleeves of the jacket. Over thick wool socks, he put the electric<br />

heated slippers and snapped them to the pants. The whole outfit was plugged into a 24-volt<br />

rheostat next to each battle station. Ifthe damn thing worked, it made high altitude flying<br />

more comfortable. Despite sweat running down one's back, fingers and toes might remain<br />

cold.<br />

Then Dimick donned the flying coveralls over the electric gear and the big<br />

sheepskin-lined flying boots. But even that was not enough! Four miles above earth it was<br />

cold - 30° degrees centigrade eC) or more below zero - and no cockpit heat to speak of. So<br />

he always took along his heavy, fleece-lined pants and jacket in case the heated suit failed<br />

because leather sheepskin flight garments were 100% reliable.<br />

He left his cap, jacket, and shoes behind in the locker. He stored his personal<br />

belongings - coins, papers, letters, wallet, etc - in an envelope which was then sealed and<br />

turned over to an orderly. Identification of any kind was forbidden except dog tags and<br />

some very special pictures included in the escape kit. Before their first mission, they had<br />

been photographed wearing civilian clothing. This was for helping the underground to<br />

forge documents. Of course, you had to be fortunate enough to be over occupied territory


The Preparation<br />

21<br />

been photographed wearing civilian clothing. This was for helping the underground to<br />

forge documents. Of course, you had to be fortunate enough to be over occupied territory<br />

when shot down and picked up by friendly people. Dimick and the others soon heard via<br />

the grapevine that the Germans could tell which outfit the captured airmen were from just<br />

by looking at the shirts worn in the ID photos. In fact, each bomb group was using the<br />

same clothing for all its pictures!<br />

Staff Sergeant Lawrence S. Bowers took all the clothes he could put on - long wool<br />

underwear, army Olive Drab (OD) wool shirt and pants, heavy layers of socks, wool<br />

sweaters, etc. As were his fellow waist gunners, he was exposed to an icy air blast. In the<br />

middle of this male and military equipment one may find a "female touch" - silk gloves.<br />

The gunners always wore them under their heated gloves. Fixing any mechanical<br />

malfunction while wearing thick gloves was a good trick, and to perform it under extreme<br />

cold conditions, was more than doubly difficult. At -30°C, one could not touch anything<br />

metal with bare hands since the skin would stick to it instantly. It was possible with silk<br />

gloves on, but one could not dally too long or severe frostbite would occur.<br />

Forty-five caliber automatic pistols were available and worn in a shoulder holster.<br />

There was a rumor that if one had to bail out, the parachute harness would put great<br />

pressure on the pistol when the chute opened and would break the ribs. It had also been<br />

reported the enemy was shooting on sight anyone carrying arms. In case they fell in<br />

German territory, the intelligence officer had told them to surrender to the first man in<br />

uniform they met, to gain some protection against angry civilians. He said Germans had a<br />

deep respect for anyone in authority, including a postman. Of course, nobody was eager to<br />

test the disciplined inclination of the German people.<br />

For security reasons, parachutes were repacked every 2 to 3 months. Packing team<br />

told suspicious aviators to bring the chute back if it did not open properly; they would give<br />

them another one. Pilots and copilots were issued back pack chutes because they were<br />

more comfortable to wear in the pilot seats. Dimick always strapped his chute on so it was<br />

ready to use, no matter what happened. It was risky to take it off or unbuckle the harness,<br />

as you may never get it on and buckled in time.<br />

The electric-heated slippers were not good for walking so Dimick had a pair of<br />

broken-in GI boots wired on his parachute harness during his 29 missions. Nelson's chute


22 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

had just been repacked the day before and he realized his shoes were missing. Others<br />

preferred to tie their shoes together under the seats.<br />

Some other airmen would have preferred a back pack parachute too. But it was quite<br />

difficult to move around in the restricted space of the big tin bird with this bulky stuff on<br />

the back. Those who had to wear a chest pack donned the harness only. None of them had<br />

enough room to clip the chute on; it would be in the way of instruments, weapons, or<br />

navigator's table. Chutes were placed on the floor, near the battle stations or outside the<br />

turrets, as close as possible to the one who might have to use it. In case of trouble, they<br />

would pick it up and snap the hooks to the harness to be ready to bail out. But the crews<br />

knew, or would soon discover, that it was often a question of "just in the nick of time"<br />

when it was time to use the chest chute.<br />

This thought got the attention of S/Sgt. Jack M. Erickson because on his first mission<br />

to Strasbourg, he had been nearly knocked out ofthe open bomb bay when hit by a piece of<br />

flak while releasing a hung up bomb. His chest chute, meanwhile, was on the floor of the<br />

flight deck. Luckily he was wearing his flak vest and was not injured by the spent flak hit,<br />

although it did knock the wind out of him.<br />

Soon after that mission, he succeeded in<br />

scrounging up a seat pack, which he then kept locked securely in his locker. For fear of<br />

losing it, he had never returned it for repacking.<br />

Big flight and parachute bags were filled with all the supplementary equipment<br />

necessary to complete the battle armor of the modem warrior: Mae West life preserver,<br />

flight helmet, headset, oxygen mask, emergency K-rations. An officer signed out an escape<br />

kit for each member of his crew. It was a small plastic box, which contained articles such<br />

as different kinds of money from occupied countries, an emergency medical kit, a compass,<br />

and a map of Europe.<br />

The now fully-equipped airmen left the locker room. It was quite a walk to the flight<br />

line, and handling heavy bags in flying boots was a tough situation for any distance at alL<br />

So the guys rode everything available - trucks, jeeps, and even bicycles - to reach their<br />

#<br />

assigned planes. These various vehicles were carrying the entire spectrum of air combat<br />

experience, ranging from newcomers in the ETO to men flying their last mission, such as<br />

the pilot, Lt. French. The green kids were trying not to look too green. Some wore a cap


The Preparation<br />

23<br />

that had the typical 50 mission crush. Others were looking even raunchier than some<br />

seasoned veterans were (see illustration a).<br />

The replacement crews had made the endless 12-hour trip from Goose Bay,<br />

Labrador, to Ireland. They had flown proudly in brand new aircraft over North Atlantic;<br />

their bomb bays loaded with spare parts. They had hit the coast of North Ireland with a<br />

sigh of relief and landed at Nutts Corner. There, the kids did not keep their toys which<br />

were prepared to ETO standard before being sent to the bomb groups.<br />

The crews went to a pre-combat, ground school training center where they had<br />

various classes, ranging from English aviation, country life and weather, venereal disease<br />

(VD) prevention, to what an aviator could expect while flying a mission, including how to<br />

conduct oneself if shot down. But no flying.<br />

After a few days, they departed for their Bomb Group which was just outside the<br />

hamlet of Tibenham. There they attended more lectures before starting to fly. Then there<br />

were flights to let them see what their base looked like in the middle of the East Anglian<br />

countryside, crowded with airfields (See illustration b). Their squadron commanding<br />

officers (CO) were the almighty men deciding when the rookies were ready to fly combat<br />

missions. Usually, the new pilot was sent along with one of the older crews to see what<br />

transpired. Sometimes he went as a copilot, sometimes he sat on an ammunition box<br />

between the two pilots. The new crews were sometimes relegated to older aircraft, the<br />

newer birds going to experienced crews.<br />

The Maynard Jones crew was assigned for this mission to A Roughhouse Kate, an<br />

olive drab B-24H model, their third B-24 in eight missions. For their second mission, they<br />

had flown a brand new plane. They brought it back only to have it junked for parts. In all,<br />

they had two ships shot up so badly they were declared Category E (beyond repair).<br />

Twenty-one year-old Lt. Mercer and his bunch had shown up in Tibenham after D­<br />

Day, June 6. As a replacement crew, they had flown over eight different planes. Some<br />

were spares from other squadrons that were not in particularly good shape. In fact, they<br />

had to abort on three occasions because of mechanical problems which prevented the ship<br />

from reaching combat altitude. It was mission number 29 for Mercer and the seventh time<br />

he had flown G for George.


· The Pearson crew before leaving the USA, 1944.<br />

Rear: Pearson - Dimick - Stems - Henrikson<br />

Front:Johnson - ? - Tachovsky - Galyon - Farrell- OKeefe<br />

The Isom crew at Tibenham, 1944 <br />

Rear: Heisel - Sprague - Shay - Justice - 180m <br />

Front: Bailey - Phillips - Wagner - Barnes - Dickerson <br />

Illustration a <br />

The difference between a crew in the Zone of Interior <br />

and a crew after 30 missions in the ETO.


·•••••...•...................................... .....•••.•......................•••••.....................•••••........... ..<br />

~~ ~<br />

466th<br />

96CBW<br />

~ 467th<br />

458th •<br />

392nd<br />

491st ~ NORWICH<br />

14 CBW 44th 389th<br />

448th LOWEST<br />

453rd<br />

~<br />

2C W ~ 0<br />

93rd~BW<br />

445th<br />

1\\<br />

j\,<br />

446th<br />

BURYST ." ../ \<br />

EDMUND§..",."···"·<br />

o ,.,.../<br />

• CAMBRIDGE //.... \ / r\.1-- \ .. ....<br />

..................................................... ,.,/ ~ ,<br />

'\,<br />

../ \ \ _.J.<br />

\<br />

(<br />

\\-j\<br />

~<br />

" "'--"-'-"<br />

". \:,<br />

..........<br />

"""'"<br />

. \~ ... '".........<br />

\" .•... ..,­<br />

Station 124···'··,.....,.,..<br />

TIBENHAM ..,...".....<br />

....<br />

... ,..,<br />

445th BG(H)<br />

.,..,............ .,.. " ..........., .....,.. <br />

.•...,...,<br />

.....'.<br />

Illustration b <br />

Bomb Groups and Wings of the 2nd Bomb Division <br />

East Anglia, England, September 1944


24 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Crew integrity was somewhat impacted when most crews were reduced from ten<br />

men to nine because of the removal of the Sperry ball turrets. Staff Sergeant Herbert R.<br />

Schwartz became a so-called "back-up" gunner. With no regular crew assignment, he had<br />

to fly with different crews. His 21 st mission would be behind the twin .50s ofa tail turret.<br />

Removing the ball turret was met with mixed reviews from the crews. Those who<br />

were thinking the Luftwaffe was kaput and had complete trust in the "Little Friends" found<br />

this idea excellent. From the viewpoint of the gunner, it was wonderful: ''No better way to<br />

commit suicide had ever been invented." Some even thought it was not a very efficient gun<br />

position: "I never heard of them hitting anything." Only a few men did not like the<br />

conversion; they felt like a helpless goose, always fearing the Germans would take<br />

advantage of such a blunder.<br />

From the standpoint of the airplane, it saved some weight but moved the center of<br />

gravity forward toward the nose turret thus rendering the plane "nose heavy." This, in tum,<br />

required more strength from the two pilots to hold the big bird's nose up, particularly during<br />

landing.<br />

Combat and assignment hazards also contributed to breaking up the crews. Staff<br />

Sergeant Charles A. Huddlestun, a former ball turret gunner, was an orphan. His regular<br />

pilot and co-pilot had fmished their tours. He was left behind because he had been in the<br />

hospital with a perforated eardrum and, while there, the balance of his crew ditched in the<br />

North Sea, resulting in the loss of all his noncom friends. For this, his 25 th mission, he took<br />

over the right waist gun position. This was his first meeting with the pilot, Lt. French, and<br />

the crew.<br />

First Lieutenant Malcom J. MacGregor had flown his first five missions with the<br />

Williams crew. But, when his original crew became lead, he went on the "extra board,"<br />

flying 17 missions with six different crews before becoming a lead bombardier. Twelve of<br />

his 33 previous missions were flown with the Sollien crew. Pilot, 1st Lt. Carl J. Sollien,<br />

was not only a master in the use of his superchargers, he was quite a good piano player. He<br />

even composed some original music. Sollien and MacGregor once went to London on<br />

leave together and were together again today flying in a familiar plane, Fort Worth Maid.<br />

It was the 26th mission for the rest of the crew, except for the nose turret navigator,<br />

2nd Lt. John D. Dent. It was to be his 5 th Mission and MacGregor found him quite tense.


The Preparation<br />

25<br />

"When we were getting ready to board the plane Dent said: 'Y ou don't have to worry ­<br />

nothing never happens when I am along.' I thought this strange because of his limited<br />

experience. I remembered my fifth mission was to Politz in June and it was a very rough<br />

mission, many planes went down, heavy flak and a lot of German fighter planes."<br />

At the age of 30, T/Sgt. Ed Barnes was the old man of the crew of 1st Lt. Cecil J.<br />

Isom. Before enlisting he had worked for Consolidated Aircraft in San Diego, California.<br />

Later, he was sent to engineering and gunnery school, and ended up as a Technical<br />

Sergeant. After five missions, they were made a lead crew. On August 14, 1944, during<br />

one of their numerous instrument check flights, Sweet Sue developed a fire in the flight<br />

deck resulting in a crash landing. The bombardier was injured and flew no more missions.<br />

The plane was a total loss. The Isom crew switched to Patty Girl and stuck to her with<br />

success.<br />

Barnes was flying his 29th combat mission in the right waist position. On his first<br />

six missions he had flown in the top turret, as did most ofthe engineers. But he did not like<br />

it as it was too close in for him. Lieutenant Isom used to say - "When it comes time to<br />

leave this bird, I don't want anyone to impede me." In time of crisis the flight deck could<br />

sure get crowded. Staff Sergeant Kyle C. Bailey was not an engineer but he was trained in<br />

the top turret position and wanted it. Isom agreed, so for the next missions Barnes switched<br />

to the waist where he had some freedom ofmovement.<br />

It was about 05 :30 when the trucks stopped at the hardstands. The boys threw all<br />

their flight gear and bags out of the vehicles and took them to the ships where they<br />

gathered under the wings ofthe giant, metal, mother hen.<br />

First Lieutenant James C. Baynham and crew were dropped at hardstand 32. They<br />

had flown a different ship during the preceding nine missions. It was a shame they did not<br />

have their own aircraft for the pilot had a name for her, The Whistling Privy. Today they<br />

boarded a shining silver B-24, King Kong, one ofthe newest planes in the group.<br />

Lieutenant Peter Belitsos' original crew, the Speers crew, had been formed at<br />

Westover Field, MA. During transition training, it remained intact with only one early<br />

change made. They had flown together for seven months on all but the first of 21 missions<br />

and on countless practice missions. But today, Belitsos was assigned to another crew and it<br />

was not until he reached the hardstand that he met Lt. Bruland, the pilot.


26 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

"I introduced myself and was introduced to the navigator, 2nd Lt. Norman J. Cuddy.<br />

The rest of the crew was huddled a short distance away but it was too dark to make out<br />

their faces."<br />

Each crewman now began the pre-flight inspection of the items in his area of<br />

responsibility. Pilots and copilots walked around the ships with ground crew chiefs and<br />

signed the form lA for the ground crew chief. So"me planes were patched; testimony of<br />

former eventful encounters with well identified flying objects.<br />

The Ordnance crews had previously fed the twin bomb bays with bombs: two 500lb<br />

general-purpose (GP) and two sky markers in the PFF ships; six 1000 Ib GPs for the other<br />

B-24s. They had also screwed nose and tail fuses into each bomb. The fuel tanks were<br />

loaded with the mandated 2500 gallons of 100-plus octane gas.<br />

Copilot, Lt. Dimick, went through the bomb bay, the easiest way to access his<br />

station. The flight deck housed the top turret, the so-called radio room, and, at the very<br />

front, both pilots' seats, positioned side by side on a raised platform. Dimick sat in the right<br />

hand seat. As each seat shrouded the occupant with armor, they were called "coffin seats"<br />

for their resemblance to a shallow coffin with the lid off. When he was a kid, it's unlikely<br />

Nelson gave any thought to an airplane seat looking like that.<br />

Since the age of nine, he had hung around aircraft at the local airport. The war<br />

allowed him free flight instruction at the age of 17. He wanted wings but fighter wings.<br />

When he graduated from cadets, they turned out to be bomber wings. A lot of replacement<br />

crews were required because of the heavy losses. This mission, his thirtieth, should have<br />

been his last, but the tour was upped from 30 to 35 missions. Dimick hung the chain of the<br />

small rag doll - a girlfriend's gift - on the instrument panel. He set the rudder pedals and the<br />

seat adjustment to fit his 5-foot-8-inch stature and was ready to fly.<br />

The same Air Force need for bomber crew copilots placed Lt. George in the right<br />

hand seat where he logged 16 missions. He, too, never wanted to fly bombers, only<br />

fighters. His student record as an aviation cadet was good, but, to meet Air Force needs, he<br />

became a copilot. He found this okay because it would get him into combat more quickly.<br />

His ambition was to fly the required number of bomber flights, then get transferred into<br />

fighters.


The Preparation 27<br />

Under the guidance of his pilot, 1st Lt. Donald E. Brent, he was given more and<br />

more time in control of the aircraft. After about seven missions, he was given a check ride<br />

by the sqmidron commander, and thereafter could log time as a "first pilot." After this, he<br />

was gradually given the responsibility for formation flying. Brent juggled assignments so<br />

that they would be flying on the left wing of the adjacent aircraft in the formation. Lt.<br />

George also practiced landings. Brent had only three more missions to go, and the copilot<br />

thought he would then take over the crew.<br />

Bombardier, 2nd Lt. James E. Dowling crawled in the small tunnel from the flight<br />

deck to the nose compartment of a brand new plane named Fridget Bridget, which had no<br />

missions chalked on her side. The nose wheel hatch under the nose was also a way to enter<br />

the bombardier compartment but it required a lot of twisting. The B-24 was a big aircraft<br />

from the outside but inside, there was little room to spare. The nose was very small and<br />

certainly not designed with the comfort of the bombardier and the navigator in mind. Any<br />

simple movement required the guys to squirm around each other.<br />

On the left side of his compartment were the bomb controls, the control handles to<br />

operate the bomb bay doors, and a salvo handle to drop all the bombs in emergency. The<br />

so-called Christmas tree showing status of the bomb load and the intervalometer which<br />

could be set to drop the bombs in train at various intervals were also in the compartment.<br />

Dowling was trailing his crew in the mission count. His original crew had flown 18<br />

missions but he had flown only eleven because he had been elevated to lead bombardier<br />

status and, as such, had flown with different crews. But today he was back with his<br />

original crew led by 1st Lt. Joseph E. Johnson.<br />

Dowling made sure his chest pack was near his position. He would have preferred<br />

that all airmen be issued back packs and could wear them all the time. He felt more<br />

concern about getting out of the airplane than being hit by flak. But there was no way the<br />

men in the nose could wear their chutes and move around.<br />

Lieutenant Withey entered the crowded space of the nose and dropped his flak suit<br />

on the floor to protect his vital parts. He had no seat to speak of but a belt about 6 inches<br />

wide that he could stretch across and sit on. He unsnapped the cloth strap holding his<br />

"desk" - a little hinged sheet of plywood attached to the bulkhead, forward of and lower<br />

than the flight deck. The navigator started to stack his logbook, maps, parallel rulers,


28 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

pencils, plotter, and E6B computer: too much for the little shelf but standard equipment to<br />

navigate. For visibility he had a small bubble window on both sides and a plastic dome<br />

overhead.<br />

For 22 missions, Withey had left the cramped nose quarters for the relative comfort<br />

of the lead navigator desk behind the pilot where he had a chair and desk. Facing aft up<br />

there, he was closer to the controls he had dreamed to hold. In June 1942, a few days after<br />

graduating from high school, he enlisted in the Anny Air Force. But he was washed out as<br />

pilot due to his poor - depth perception and ended up as navigator. To put a happy end to<br />

his tour, he was flying with 2nd Lt. Donald N. Reynolds's crew.<br />

While checking his top turret, Boldt found that the optical sight had parallax. "This<br />

made the sight completely useless but this was not sufficient to ground the plane as 1 had an<br />

iron sight as back up. 1 really did not give it a whole lot of thought as we always had very<br />

good fighter escort. I felt that this mission was going to be easy. In the ship, the ground<br />

crew chief told me that he had always wanted to go on a mission just to say that he made<br />

one. 1 almost convinced him that this would be the day, this one should be easy. At the last<br />

minute he backed out."<br />

Sergeant Erickson, radio operator on the crew of Second Lieutenant William F.<br />

Golden, had been delivered to hardstand 40 where the aircraft, Ole Baldy, a B-24H in olive<br />

drab paint was located. Erickson made his way to the flight deck to assume his position,<br />

behind the copilot seat. "I pre-flew all of the radio gear and pre-tuned the SCR-287<br />

transmitter to the assigned frequency. 1 made sure that a flak suit and a flak helmet had<br />

been delivered to my station. 1 put together the whole outfit. I then tested my oxygen mask<br />

and plugged my electrical heated suit in to make sure it heated properly. Next I checked<br />

out my Mae West to be sure it contained live C02 cartridges. Once I was satisfied that it<br />

was in good working order 1 put it on. Next 1 strapped on my parachute harness and sat<br />

down at my radio position all set for another mission."<br />

In December 1941, Chuck Graham was a radio announcer. The night he read the<br />

news that all W2s should report to their draft board, he did so and it was his undoing - they<br />

had lost his original draft papers - and this brought it to their attention. A week later he got<br />

his invitation from the President. Technical Sergeant Charles J. Graham was, on the eve of<br />

his 24th mission, broadcasting different kind ofmessages.


The Preparation<br />

29<br />

When S/Sgt. Ammi H. Miller was drafted, he had left behind a wife and baby<br />

daughter, not knowing if he would ever see them again. Each completed mission was a step<br />

closer to his beloved family. He climbed into the top turret ofFort Worth Maid to perfonn<br />

his checks. His original position was as a waist gunner but the engineer, T/Sgt. William C.<br />

Stephens, wanted to fly back in the fuselage. He did not like the confinement of the top<br />

turret and, in addition, his best friend, S/Sgt. James L. Bridgeo, was manning the left waist<br />

gun. Miller saw no problem in switching assignments. He was familiar with the top turret<br />

position, as he had been trained in it. Last, but not least, trading places put him nearer to<br />

his own best friend, Sgt. Graham, the radio operator.<br />

On the flight deck of the lead ship, the "pathfmder" or "PFF" the radar navigator sat<br />

in front of a cathode ray tube that gave a rough representation of the ground below. The<br />

radar screen was divided into concentric circles suggesting the distances. To plot a course,<br />

the "Mickey" (as the equipment was dubbed) operator compared the image on his screen to<br />

a set of maps. In doing so, he could guide the fonnation even when there was complete<br />

cloud cover.<br />

The extra crew required to operate a pathfinder necessitated a shift aft for the radio<br />

operator: he was moved aft ofthe bomb bay.<br />

Sergeant Sims had first tried to enlist in the Navy. But the Fleet did not want the<br />

small-town boy and his ring wonn. The killing of his embarrassing passenger, the wonn,<br />

had cost him $5.00 and so, after its demise, he took off for the Army Air Forces. He was<br />

now making his way through a PFF belly to the rear section where he sat in readiness for<br />

his 17th with the Uebelhoer crew.<br />

For the guys with pre-war military experience, most of the ainnen at Tibenham were<br />

all "feather merchants," as they called those that came from basic directly to· the cadets.<br />

But, S/Sgt. Glen S. McConnick was not one of those feather merchants. He had sworn in<br />

as a Private in the Army on November 15, 1939. His first "home-away-from home" was<br />

Hickam Field, Hawaii. It was there that he flew in a Douglas A-20 for his first flight. Long<br />

before most of the crews of the 445 th had gotten off the ground. And it was there that he<br />

saw action, again long before most of the crews of the 445 th had fired a shot in anger.<br />

Hickam Field was located on the island of Oahu ... right next door to Pearl Harbor. Since


30 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

then, for McCormic~ the red "assholes" on the enemy planes had turned to black crosses<br />

and the rear seat of a sleek A·20 to a waist gun position in a B-24 fuselage.<br />

The waist area was pretty small. When looking or shooting at enemy aircraft, the<br />

gunners would sometimes bump into each other. From the comfort point of view, this part<br />

of the fuselage was highly ventilated by the slipstream blowing through the two open waist<br />

windows. The only advantage was that the waist windows were convenient means to load<br />

or unload guns and ammunition belts, or evacuate a wounded airman on a stretcher.<br />

Furthermore, there was no such thing as a "coffin seat," only a thin aluminum skin between<br />

them and deadly elements like 20-mm splinters and 88-mm shrapnel. So everybody was<br />

doing his best to reinforce his position. One way to protect oneself was the flak suit. It<br />

came in sections that snapped together, each section covering a specific area of the body.<br />

The full complem~nt was quite heavy and would wear a man out if worn for a long while.<br />

Waist gunners put an extra flak suit over empty ammunition boxes so they could sit by their<br />

guns during assembly time.<br />

Staff Sergeant Jack Laswell put his flak suit on the floor of the left waist gun<br />

position for extra armor protection. Straight out of high school, he was flying his 15th<br />

mission in the high-high-right squadron lead ship, with pilot 1st Lt Donald W. Smith. The<br />

19-year-old gunner had flown with different crews in every gun position, except the top<br />

turret. He found the ball turret was the best and most accurate of all but impossible to get<br />

out of it ifthe ship had a problem!<br />

Sergeant Plesa found his tail turret was prepared and maintained properly, although<br />

he did not get a chance to boresight his guns as he wanted to. The ground crew assured him<br />

that the vital checks were done.<br />

Staff Sergeant Raymond W. Ray, Our Gars tail gunner had turned 19 in May. Even<br />

though it was only his 8th mission, he was wise enough to wear the back and chest parts of<br />

a flak suit and he sometimes sat on an extra one.<br />

All checks completed, bunches of ambling Teddy Bears assembled mthe dar~<br />

waiting for the signal to board ships. Everyone had his own way to cope with this anxious<br />

time. Some would doze. Others did their usual amount of fooling. First Lieutenant<br />

William J. Mowat came up in front of his crew with, "What's up Doc?" The pilot liked to<br />

talk like Bugs Bunny "for fun." He liked the cartoon character so much that the ship Hot


The Preparation<br />

31<br />

Rock had a Bugs Bunny riding a high eXl'losive bomb painted on both sides. Some guys lit<br />

up a cigarette and talked over the mission, agreeing it would not be so bad.<br />

On" this Wednesday, September 27, Lt. Dimick had planned a party in a small local<br />

pub, the Greyhound. "At five '0 clock this afternoon I would start my twentieth year of<br />

existence on planet earth. A couple of days before I had purchased two fifths of very good<br />

scotch from the officers club. It was 'black market' booze and the going price was about 18<br />

a bottle. I had a date with an English girl, enlisted in the RAF. We had to be careful<br />

around the main streets of Norwich. Officers were not allowed to go with enlisted<br />

personnel. The Military Police seemed to take great pleasure in harassing us when caught<br />

together and we had already been warned a couple oftimes. However we were not deterred<br />

by regulations."<br />

Others set their minds to more serious concerns. Sergeant Boldt thought of his<br />

daughter, born about twelve days after he left the States, on July 10, 1944. "Although two<br />

emergency telegrams were sent through the Red Cross, I did not get them till the middle of<br />

September. By then I had received pictures through regular mail. My wife had sent me my<br />

daughter's booties and I always carried them along with a lace garter of my wife'S, a small<br />

Bible, and a Saint Christopher MedaL"<br />

He was not the only one to wear such a precious and personal reminder. Sergeant<br />

John Ray Lemons carried his son's baby shoes around his neck along with his dog tags.


-----4.__. "<br />

["""""" ..,....,.."'...."........"..,...."........ ,.... , '''Hannover :<br />

Osnabruck<br />

•<br />

'" --....<br />

Lille<br />

• •<br />

Charleroi<br />

..Liege<br />

.. "'"<br />

Koln<br />

._------.<br />

• \ •• i<br />

' ____,,/ ~. i<br />

L...........................................l{Jlssel .. l~<br />

<br />

[..................... <br />

l.. ....<br />

Munster ..... :x<br />

:x '):;...<br />

Route as planned<br />

A vertical front :x .<br />

.<br />

................ Gottingen I"~,:"~,<br />

i<br />

• ..··..·......·....·4..·4 ~.!, ...!. ••••••.••••••••<br />

..·..T ....,,-·................... •.•.•••.•.., <br />

Initial K I !<br />

Point asse........ ! <br />

........ f<br />

f- ........ <br />

i.••_........................................,.,.,.,.,.....,.••••••••.•..•.•..•••••••••.•.•.•.•,..................................................................................................................." •••••••••••; <br />

The 2 nd CBW splits, its three groups coming into trail, Le., following one another. <br />

Then the squadrons in each group take the same line-astern type formation. <br />

Each B-24 represents a 445th BG squadron en-route to KasseL <br />

At 09:24 the group would reach its initial point and start the bomb run to the target. <br />

At 09:32, after "bombs away," the three bomb groups reassemble. <br />

Then the Second Combat Wing would fly a westward course. <br />

At Great Yarmouth, the 2nd CBW splits. <br />

From there, the 445 th Group had a short leg to base to end the 6 112-hour flight. <br />

The Estimated Time of Retum (ETR) at Tibenham was 12:42, an early return.


The Flight<br />

33<br />

Chapter 2<br />

THE FLIGHT <br />

A flare was sent up from the control tower at 05:50, signaling crewmembers to board<br />

their plane and take their respective stations. They all completed their suiting up, putting<br />

the Mae West over the heavy jacket and then the parachute harness. The fleece-lined leather<br />

helmet, goggles, and the throat mike followed. The throat mike strap encircled the throat<br />

and snapped on itself with the mike at the front. To speak, they pressed the front side ofthe<br />

strap against their throat; this kept one hand free. The oxygen mask hung from the helmet.<br />

They plugged the mike and the headset cords into the intercom, and, after reaching altitude,<br />

they attached the oxygen mask hose to the oxygen demand regulator.<br />

The ground crew pulled through the three-bladed propellers, grabbing a blade, and<br />

walking it over, till another blade could be reached. It was a safety precaution to make sure<br />

that no oil had drained down in the bottom cylinder heads while the engine sat idle.<br />

Starting the engine with oil in the combustion chamber would damage it severely. This also<br />

ensured that the top cylinders would be lubricated, othetwise they might freeze up on<br />

starting. If unusual resistance was met when turning the prop manually, the ground crew<br />

would stop, remove a spark plug and let the oil drain out.<br />

When the pull-through of the engines was completed, the engineer pulled the string<br />

on the Auxiliary Power Unit (APU) to fire it up. This auxiliary generator supplied initial<br />

power for the hydraulic pump and engine start. The bomb bay doors rem"ained open until<br />

take-off to prevent gas fumes from accumulating within the fuselage.<br />

Copilots energized the No. 3 engine while pilots handled the throttles. This engine<br />

was started first because it housed the hydraulic pump power unit. Then it was the tum of<br />

No.4, No.2 and No.1, in that order. One hundred and fifty-six Pratt & Whitney engines<br />

coming to life shook Tibenham and its vicinity. First coughing and spitting, some emitting<br />

lots ofsmoke, they soon all roared.<br />

The engines were warmed up by running at 1,000 RPM until the oil temperature<br />

indicators exceeded 40°C, and cylinder-head temperatures reached 120°C. They ran the


34 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

props through and checked the magnetos, making sure that all the instruments were in good<br />

order.<br />

At 06:00, while all engines were running, another flare climbed from the control<br />

tower signaling the pilots to "start taxiing to line up for take-off." The ground crews pulled<br />

the wheel chocks out. Captain John Chilton reduced power to idle, depressed the brake<br />

pedals, and released the parking brake handle. A slight forward pressure on the throttles<br />

and he wheeled the lead ship off hardstand 17 to the perimeter track. He began the trip to<br />

the head of runway 21, which ran from northeast to southwest, a compass heading of 210°,<br />

as runways are designated according to their magnetic compass direction.<br />

Lieutenant French taxied his B-24 to the ramp and waited his tum to enter the<br />

procession, then pulled his ship into its proper position.<br />

Lieutenant. Miner's ship, as lead plane in the high right squadron, was to be the<br />

eleventh airplane to go.<br />

Second Lieutenant William F. Golden and 2nd Lt. Robert C. Christie taxied their<br />

olive drab- painted warrior away from the hardstand and moved into the line between two<br />

silver planes. The bulk ofthe planes were J models in the natural, shining aluminum fmish.<br />

While taxiing out of hardstand 19, 2nd Lt. Rene J. Schneider ran his right wheel off<br />

the steel ramp into the mud. The tire was cut so they had to abort the mission, which was to<br />

be their seventh.<br />

In all, thirty-eight B-24s were lining up on the taxi strips behind the lead ship. B-24s<br />

certainly did not look glamorous when they lumbered, their lights on, along the taxi strip,<br />

but that was not their purpose. As the planes taxied, the mechanics waved goodbye to their<br />

ships, the beloved babies they took extensive care of - often working through the night to<br />

make the aircraft airworthy.<br />

As was true of many others on the taxiway, Lt. Donald Brent and his crew did not<br />

fly the same airplane on every mission. Today they were assigned to S for Sugar. It was an<br />

olive drab- painted B-24H named Eileen. While some airmen considered these plane shifts<br />

as simply switching one tool for another, others treated their aircraft as individuals,<br />

individuals with their own flying characteristics and responsiveness to flight controls.<br />

Lieutenant Walter George Jr. thought Brent was sensitive to the nature of flight in<br />

every respect. "With him, the physical act of flying was an extension of one's physical and


The Flight<br />

35<br />

emotional self. Instinctively he was always ahead of the movement that the aircraft would<br />

make in response to whatever variable the flight environment had to offer. Brent was also<br />

sensitive to the propulsion machinery that powered an airplane. Not only was he<br />

continually scanning engine behavior from the instruments, but each new vibration, sound,<br />

and adjustment had messages for him."<br />

Before starting the run, pilots applied the brakes and gave the engines their final runup.<br />

All hatches were secured and the bomb bay doors rolled closed.<br />

The engineer turned off the APU before take-off, went back to his position, and<br />

confirmed this to the skipper. Over the interphone, pilots ordered each position to report<br />

and assume take-off position. The nose section was to be empty, as were turrets and<br />

positions aft ofthe waist guns. In the event ofa crash, the nose had a tendency to crumble,<br />

becoming a deadly trap. Anyone aft of the waist guns would cause tail heaviness,<br />

compromising the balance of the ship during the dangerous, full-weight take-off. The<br />

crewmembers sat on the floor with their backs to the bulkhead, knees pulled up and hands<br />

behind the head. Those.in the front ofthe fuselage took positions on the flight deck, those<br />

in the rear against the rear bomb bay bulkhead.<br />

Captain Chilton released the brakes and the PFF ship slowly began its take-off roll,<br />

lumbering down the runway, and using most ofthe 6,000 feet available. Mission 169 was<br />

on.<br />

Captain Web Uebelhoer wheeled the deputy lead ship into take-off position, waiting<br />

for the Aldis lamp flash. Then the green light signal came: "GO." At the control tower,<br />

brass and flying control personnel anxiously followed each run. Ambulances and crash<br />

wagons were in readiness close by.<br />

While the preceding ship was accelerating down the runway, the next one in line was<br />

running engines at 2000 RPM, with the pilots holding the brakes. When Lts. French and<br />

Cochran had completed the last check, they released the brakes and advanced the throttles<br />

slowly but steadily. At approximately 130 mph, the plane lifted-off. Then the landing gear<br />

was retracted and locked. Technical Sergeant Fred N. Fiske, the radio operator, entered the<br />

take-off time on his radio log. Then, he tested the intercom system by calling each position<br />

individually followed by the all-station call.


36 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Pilots were now increasing power to get into formation. This was the most arduous<br />

flyingjob of the whole mission. There were so many bomb groups taking offtogether, too<br />

often with no visual contact with one another, that each group was given a single compass<br />

bearing to hold until breaking through above the clouds. This helped to lessen the collision<br />

risk. Each aircraft flew a five-minute leg racetrack pattern at 150 mph, climbing at 300<br />

feet/minute, sometimes experiencing the first prop wash ofthe day. The climb within dense<br />

clouds ~ with everyone on board scanning the "pea soup" - was a tense period. When they<br />

broke through the overcast, the sun was shining brightly on the silver ships, making the<br />

olive drab painted planes look faded. Inside, the modem knights were helping each other<br />

put on flak suits and steel helmets.<br />

The gunners loaded a .50 caliber shell into the chamber of their guns to prevent a<br />

frozen gun. It was a hairy and deadly experience to face the Luftwaffe with useless<br />

weapons.<br />

Before going on oxygen, the man in charge of "pulling the wires" left his position<br />

and went to the bomb bay. The place was so crowded he had to leave his chute behind at<br />

his station. He climbed on the 10-inch wide catwalk to tum the sleeping 1000-pounders to<br />

almost living high-explosive bombs. The only things separating him from thousands offeet<br />

of open air were the bomb bay doors. But they were tricky floors, designed to let go of<br />

anything exerting a certain amount of pressure on them. And the bomb bay doors were<br />

unable to distinguish a bomb from an airman accidentally falling with no chute on.<br />

The bomb-arming device was a small propeller secured by a safety pin and a wire<br />

connected to the rack. The bombardier or his deputy made sure the arming wires were still<br />

in place and took the cotter pins out. He put them in his pocket in case he had to put them<br />

back for a full bomb load landing. When the bombs were dropped, the end of the wires<br />

secured to the rack would pull the safety out. This allowed the tiny propellers to tum in the<br />

relative wind. After several hundred rotations, the bombs would be fully armed and ready to<br />

explode hundreds offeet below the formation.<br />

Engineers went to the bomb bay to transfer fuel from the "Tokyo tanks" to the main<br />

tanks. Sergeant Boldt always performed this operation just before having to use oxygen. "I<br />

wanted to be sure that we had used up the 450 gallons and that I did not overflow the main<br />

tanks. We were very nervous about gas fumes on a B-24. The last thing that I did before


The Flight<br />

37<br />

getting in my turret was to relieve myself on the bombs." Then he climbed back in the top<br />

turret, reconnected the intercom, heating source, oxygen hose, put on the steel hat and sat<br />

on his flak vest. His 10 th mission was well on its way.<br />

While gas was the blood keeping the big tin bird in the air, the fuel was also vital to<br />

the ground war thousands of feet below the airmen. The Second Combat Wing and the<br />

44Sth Group had to play their parts in supplying it to General Patton's Armored Divisions.<br />

These missions, called "trucking," received no credit. They didn't contribute to reduce the<br />

tour, even if the crews were assigned. The entire group stood down from combat for the<br />

ferrying of huge amounts ofgasoline to northern France.<br />

All B-24 tanks were topped as for a long haul far into Germany, and jeep cans were<br />

stored everywhere - on the flight deck, in the nose wheel compartment, bomb bays, and<br />

fuselage. The flying tankers landed on fighter landing strips made of steel mats. Tanks<br />

were hand pumped to drums and jeep cans then transferred to 6-by-6 trucks.<br />

Many men listed these missions among their scariest trips. But sometimes it could<br />

score big. The enlisted men of the Baynham crew liked Copilot 2nd Lt. Charles M.<br />

Bousquet as he was always visiting the NCOs and never let rank be a barrier; he was just<br />

one of the gang. Bousquet was of French descent and still practiced the language of his<br />

ancestors. During a trucking mission, the local Frenchmen loaded their Liberator, men and<br />

ship, with cognac while the crew did some trophy hunting, rescuing souvenirs :from among<br />

the piles ofGerman equipment.<br />

The crews went on oxygen at 10,000 feet. Each man had to don his mask and<br />

acknowledge on the interphone. At 12,000 feet, the first ships spotted their assembly ship:<br />

Lucky Gordon, Z for Zebra, or less officially, "the striped-as sed ape." It was an orange and<br />

black-striped B-24 firing red-green flares - the colors of the day - to attract the ships of the<br />

44Sth Group. This 66-foot-Iong pilot fish was an old D model bearing the group marking in<br />

the old fashion: a big black F in a white circle painted on the tail assembly. By this time,<br />

all the Second Combat Wing ships were identified by a white stripe on black painted<br />

rudders. The orientation of the white stripe distinguished the three groups composing the<br />

Wing: horizontal for the 44Sth Bomb Group, vertical for the 389 th BG, and diagonal for the<br />

4S3 rd BG.


38 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

In the distance, other Zebra ships were firing green-green or red-red flares, as they<br />

too circled the sky to form their respective groups at different altitudes.<br />

But this was not the only difference between the later models and the buncher ship.<br />

The most striking feature was its nose, which looked like a greenhouse. Late in 1942, the<br />

German fighters had learned to take advantage of the blind spot of the three or four flexible<br />

.50s firing from the nose and conducted devastating and frightening head-on attacks. This<br />

led to several attempts to increase the forward firing effectiveness. Many were made on the<br />

field by inventive mechanics, culminating in the more accurate and powerful nose turret.<br />

To accomplish squadron assembly, the B-24s orbited over a radio beacon (see<br />

illustration c). Each ten-ship squadron had two three-plane elements and two two-plane<br />

elements. The lead element of three planes had the squadron lead in the middle, flanked by<br />

his right and left wingmen. The "slot element" leader tlew directly under the tail of the<br />

squadron lead, flanked by his right and left wingmen. The high-right element flew to the<br />

right and above the squadron leader, with the low left element flying to the left and under<br />

the lead and slot elements. So, after breaking through the clouds, wingmen were racing to<br />

spot the leaders of their elements (see illustration d).<br />

To try to make this operation easier, two large letters (yellow on camouflage, and<br />

black on metal) were painted on both sides of the fuselage to identify each squadron among<br />

the group: IS for the 700th Sq, MK for the 701 st Sq, WV for the 702 nd Sq, and RN for the<br />

703 rd Sq. An individual aircraft letter was also painted on the fuselage and vertical<br />

stabilizers to identify the plane within its squadron. In the process of getting to their<br />

element leader's wing as quickly as possible, the bombers had to maneuver around other<br />

planes in search of their own lead ships. Each of them was trailing an invisible signature<br />

called prop wash. This high density of aircraft occasionally resulted in one being caught in<br />

the prop wash of another, rocking the ship more or less seriously. This invisible threat<br />

could even throw a plane to its doom if the pilots were unable to regain control fast enough.<br />

To save gasoline, 2nd Lt. William Dewey cut down the power and got A Wallet A­<br />

Abel on the left wing (No.3 position) of Lt. Smith (No.1), leader of the 701 st squadron.<br />

Simultaneously, the second element of the 701 st took off in search of its lead element.<br />

Lieutenants Bruland and Belitsos were flying No. 6 position, off the left wing of their<br />

element leader, Little Audrey (No.4). The right wingmen was Slossie (No.5) piloted by 1st


••••••••<br />

•••••••• ••••<br />

701st Sqd<br />

~ .. ~ ... ~ ........ ~<br />

"'...... -..<br />

........ ...•...••.••••....• ~ ... ~...•.•••..• ~ ..... <br />

......... i <br />

......... ..... ....--- - -~-<br />

.....••••.•...•.....•-.<br />

•••••••• •••• 702nd Sqd ••:.<br />

••••••• _ - - ~ 700th Sqd<br />

- -- -"<br />

............. .... .... .... ---- ------1----­<br />

.<br />

•••••• .... .... • ••••••••••••••••••••• jt •••••••••••••••••<br />

•••• -- ..... .... . .•,...................•....•........:~..... 703rd Sqd .:::<br />

0.· , .......... .. .. . .. . <br />

.....................~ ............... <br />

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IIIIL-__~_~~_~~_:_i________________________________________________________________________<br />

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TIBENHAM control tower<br />

Radio Beacon<br />

Illustration c <br />

Take-off and formation building in overcast over a radio beacon <br />

Altitude 12,000 feet


High-right element<br />

High-right element<br />

•<br />

• II<br />

·,,",e""<br />

•<br />

Lead element '.,':~.''''o...'1f;.<br />

i ." F •<br />

I ­ -.-....... Slot element <br />

!<br />

I<br />

I<br />

!<br />

Leadielement<br />

I<br />

J<br />

i<br />

" ,~, L • J •.<br />

"o"f.<br />

I'"<br />

!<br />

i<br />

4 L. I<br />

Slorl element<br />

i<br />

i<br />

I<br />

!<br />

i<br />

High-right i .,/ ~ <br />

element <br />

• L" I<br />

Low-left element<br />

! ......&...... Lead<br />

:Jt:<br />

1 element<br />

-T- -T­<br />

........... ........... Slot ......&......<br />

J. Hi~h-right :L element J:.<br />

element<br />

element<br />

Illustration d <br />

10-ship squadron fonnation <br />

Side, front and top views


J<br />

The Flight<br />

39<br />

L1. Keith L. Frost. They had to maneuver around a larger formation and more prop wash<br />

before the three ships slid into their squadronuassigned slot.<br />

Behind Lucky Gordon, the four squadrons formed into the group. The lead squadron<br />

(700th) was flanked on its right by the high-right squadron (702 nd ) flying about 100 feet<br />

above the lead. The high-high-right squadron (701 st) flew to the right of the high-right,<br />

about 100 feet above. The low left squadron (703rd) slid to the left of the lead squadron<br />

about 100 feet below (See illustration e).<br />

When all the white-striped, black tail ships were assembled in formation, the orange<br />

and black-striped B-24 pulled away and headed back to Tibenham. Up to this point, the<br />

pilots were normally at the controls. The copilots were able to relieve them, but during<br />

tight spots, they could expect a tap on the shoulder from the pilot, who would then take<br />

over controL The reference in speed, direction, and altitude rested with the group's lead<br />

aircraft; the other 37 B-24s had to go where the lead crew went regardless and they stayed<br />

in a tight combat box to prevent the German fighters from picking them offone by one (see<br />

illustration f).<br />

The Second Combat Wing flew into its position in the middle of the Second Air<br />

Division, between the Fourteenth Combat Wing's silver rudder ships and the Twentieth<br />

Combat Wing's yellow tail airplanes. All of this very complicated assembly business<br />

required about two hours for this gathering of these hundreds of B-24s which stretched as<br />

far as the eye could see.<br />

There was a collective sigh of relief. Forming was not always without mishap, a<br />

friend of Lt. Belitsos was killed in a collision while forming on his first mission. When<br />

assembly was completed, Belitsos had a chance to look back down the ship and wave to the<br />

crew by way of introduction.<br />

At 08:03, the 44S th BG departed the English coast on a straight course over the<br />

North Sea and commenced the climb toward the enemy coast. Each gun in the formation<br />

fired a short burst, the gunners taking care not to hit their flying neighbors.<br />

After 45 minutes, the Second Bomb Division made landfall over Holland, north of<br />

Iimuiden. For another 40 minutes, the three Divisions droned over the Dutch coast which<br />

was under nearly complete cloud cover. No flak challenged them, so that was a good start.<br />

All of this time the Second Division had been climbing to the briefed altitude and finally


•••-T­<br />

•••<br />

High-high-right<br />

701 st Sqd<br />

-T-T-T-• -T-T--+­<br />

-T-+--T­<br />

High-right<br />

702nd Sqd<br />

Low-left<br />

703rd Sqd<br />

Lead<br />

700th Sqd<br />

Top view<br />

Front view<br />

445th Bomb Group<br />

Illustration e <br />

4-squadron group formation <br />

Top and front views <br />

The 701 8t sqd. is reduced to 7 ships after 3 aborted the mission


Front view<br />

453rd BG<br />

flying high right position<br />

1,000 Ft.<br />

389th BG<br />

flying high position<br />

1,000 Ft.<br />

445th BG<br />

flying lead position<br />

2ndCBW<br />

Illustration f <br />

3-Group Wing fonnation <br />

Front view


40 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

leveled off at 23,000 feet.<br />

Once at the reference altitude, flying became a little bit easier. Nevertheless, the<br />

long flight in fonnation was anything but leisure time - it was physically demanding. It was<br />

necessary to continually concentrate on staying close to the wing of the aircraft ahead,<br />

keeping one hand on the throttle handles, the other on the wheel, and both legs pumping<br />

rudder pedals.<br />

With a bit of practice, pilots learned tricks to reduce fatigue. They flew about 30­<br />

minutes before relieving each other, depending on their position in the fonnation, and to<br />

lessen cross-cockpit flying. Because of altitude differences, the high-right and high-highright<br />

squadrons had a tendency to over-run the lead squadron. They had to fly a figure "8"<br />

frequently to keep sight of the lead and stay in proper fonnation. On the other hand, the<br />

low left squadron always had to add power to keep up with the lead squadron. The throttlejockeying<br />

game became even more delicate during turns, which required increasing and<br />

decreasing air speed.<br />

With a full load of bombs and fuel, the margin between cruising and stalling speeds<br />

was very narrow. The ships on the inside radius of a turn had to slow down to hold the<br />

integrity of the combat box, sometimes flying close to the edge of a stall. When an aircraft<br />

slowed down too much, it gave some warning like loose controls and shuddering before<br />

dropping out of fonnation. Pilots had to lower the nose to regain flying speed and pull the<br />

ship back into its assigned position.<br />

Before boarding the airplane, everybody had made sure to relieve himself but<br />

extreme cold, tension, or too much coffee often brought on the need of urgent relief. To<br />

perfonn this seemingly earthly operation in flight required a number of steps. First, the<br />

crewman had to leave his combat station. That involved disconnecting from the intercom,<br />

heating source, and oxygen, taking off the flak suit, and connecting to a portable oxygen<br />

bottle, then walking to the nearest appropriate spot - the bomb bay or the nose wheel<br />

compartment. At the release point, step number two was to find and get "it" out. Four miles<br />

high, it turned into a struggle with the high altitude flying gear. These relentless<br />

impediments were the parachute harness, the heavy fleece-lined pants, the heated suit, the<br />

wool pants and, eventually, the long-John underwear. In step three, one would let go on the<br />

bomb bay or nose wheel doors. Thank God, cows did not fly.


The Flight<br />

41<br />

One solution was to use the little rubber funnel attached to a hose that led outside the<br />

ship, but there was a problem with it as it froze during use, causing it to overflow. As it was<br />

a long and difficult trip to the bomb bay, some would prefer a bomb fuse can, an empty<br />

flare box, or their own flak helmet. As the liquid froze quickly, they just had to bang the<br />

filled steel hat, or the elected receptacle, against a bulkhead and throw out the ice to piss on<br />

Adolph. Whatever the choice, they would carefully avoid any contact between "it" and the<br />

container. Such intimate touch could lead to a fatal attraction, which would put the poor<br />

unfortunate in front of a no-choice situation: either let it freeze and brake it loose or pull it<br />

out immediately and leave a piece ofintimate meat on the metaL<br />

The 30-degree ( or more) below zero temperature led to another dangerous and<br />

sometimes deadly occurrence. Moisture from human breath had some inclination to<br />

condense and freeze, cutting off the oxygen flow. To break up the ice, the men had to<br />

constantly squeeze their masks. The crewmen had to watch each other for any signs of<br />

anoxia. One man did constant interphone checks. If somebody did not acknowledge, his<br />

closest neighbor would investigate fast. He had to free the valve and put oxygen on free<br />

flow until the unfortunate came around.<br />

The long climb to combat altitude put a heavy burden on the engines. Three aircraft<br />

- Heavenly Body, Slossie, and Tahelenbak aborted the mission and headed back home.<br />

There was fighter escort above, and to the sides ofthe bomber stream. This gave the<br />

crews a nice feeling of comfort and security. Back on base, the feeling towards the little<br />

friends would be tempered. Sometimes, the fighters came over late in the day to buzz .<br />

Tibenham and damn near took the clothes offthe lines between the huts. Lieutenant Walter<br />

George remembered one that came over one afternoon and scared the hell out of the<br />

operations officer in the tower. "Some of the guys were in the radio hut and heard this<br />

major start raising hell with this pilot. Wanted him to identifY himself which he did. So<br />

happened that this was a colonel in this fighter and he came back so close to the tower that<br />

he had everybody get out."<br />

Sometimes heavy bomber pilots would put the law ofretaliation in motion. One day,<br />

Brent and George were assigned to deliver an airplane somewhere in Scotland. Brent, a<br />

quiet person, was considerate of others. Though not normally expressive and outgoing, he<br />

did have his moments. There was a fighter base on the way to Scotland. They buzzed the


42 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

tower. The officer in the tower shot a flare from his Very pistol at them on their second goaround.<br />

They then pulled up and moved down the runway with the propellers only inches<br />

from the pavement. They stayed on the deck, off and on, to Scotland, while George swore<br />

that he was viewing large oak trees sideways and up into them from his grandstand seat.<br />

Needless to say, Brent was at the controls during this one.<br />

P-38s had an unmistakable silhouette but P-47s and P-51s shared dangerous<br />

similarities with FW -190s and Me-l09s respectively. This led the little friends to adopt a<br />

cautious approach to avoid the fIre of trigger-happy gunners. Any friendly ship had to first<br />

stay way out of the range of the numerous and deadly .50 caliber. Then he rocked his<br />

wings to identify himself. Then, when the identification seemed positive, he could slide<br />

over the formation but never turn his nose in toward the bombers unless he was chasing a<br />

German fighter.<br />

As the Second Combat Wing closed on the target, a heavy layer of low<br />

stratocumulus formed a complete cloud cover, 10/1 Oths overcast, which meant that the<br />

formation had to rely on radar to fmd and bomb the target.<br />

South ofOsnabruck, the 2 nd Combat Wing turned southeast and headed for the initial<br />

point (IP) of the bombing run. First Lieutenant Frank J. Bertram was the lead navigator in<br />

the 702 nd Sq. lead plane, flying high right position. Their PFF ship was flying as backup to<br />

the group lead and the deputy lead of the lead squadron. Sitting with his back against his<br />

pilot's seat, his task as "Dead Reckoning Navigator" was to compare his figures with those<br />

received both from the "Mickey" navigator and the pilotage navigator. This was to provide<br />

a running double-check on the exact and immediate position. The ground was almost<br />

completely obscured by a low deck of clouds. This had ruled out pilotage navigation.<br />

Bertram slipped offthe electric glove of his right hand to plot the course.<br />

The 445 th Group was approaching the IP. In the 702 nd Sq. lead ship, Lt. Bertram put<br />

on his flak suit and sat on extra armor pieces. At IP minus one minute, the gunners started<br />

to dump out chaff. Chaff was a bundle of aluminum strips contained in cardboard boxes.<br />

The strips, always cut the same length, reflected back the radar signal from the radarcontrolled<br />

flak, spoiling its aim as the chaff slowly drifted down.<br />

At the IP, the formation did a slight left turn toward Kassel. The cloud cover was<br />

still 10/10. The dead reckoning navigator noticed that the group leader seemed to veer


The Flight<br />

43<br />

away from the target. Glancing outside his little window, he saw other groups ahead of<br />

them to the right. He inunediately infonned his pilot, who passed the word on to the group<br />

leader. Shortly thereafter the reply came: "Keep it together. Stay with our lead squadron."<br />

In Sweetest Rose Of Texas, navigator Lt. Henry Dobek called 1st Lt. Paul Swofford<br />

and infonned him. Other pilots relayed their navigators warnings to the lead crew. The<br />

skipper of Patches, 1st Lt. Raphael E. Carrow, called Major McCoy to infonn him they<br />

were off course. Copilot Lt. Dimick was monitoring the group frequency on VHF radio.<br />

He noted disagreement as to the heading from IP to target. While some paid little attention<br />

to it, others did not share the same point of view. Copilot Lt. George varied his radio<br />

monitoring between listening to the intercom and to the command radio. He was upset by<br />

those calls which told the German monitors that they were offcourse.<br />

Practically every navigator in the group had instantly realized they were not<br />

following the planned route. It wasn't very long before they were several miles away from<br />

the main force. The men of the 44Sth Group could see the other groups heading to their<br />

right, toward an area with heavy flak over it.<br />

In Eileen, navigator 2nd Lt. Harold H. Mercier warned T/Sgt. Sammy S. Weiner to<br />

be prepared to open bomb bay doors. The radio operator lowered himself into the wells,<br />

waiting for the bombardier's fmal words. Then it came: 44Bomb bay doors open." When<br />

they rolled open, a freezing storm forced open the bulkhead door separating the bomb bay<br />

from the waist section.<br />

The lead ship went on the autopilot connected to the bombsight, the bombardier then<br />

controlled the track. Because of the complete cloud cover, 1st Lt. Parker S. Trefethen, the<br />

bombardier, had to set his sight and track on distance hacks from the Mickey operator who<br />

called course corrections to the target. Now there was no such thing as evasive action.<br />

As King Kong turned and went on the bomb run, Sgt. Boldt, swung his top turret to<br />

12 0'clock to see how much flak they were about to enter. There was practically none. That<br />

did surprise him as he expected heavy flak over Kassel. He called his pilot who did not<br />

seem to know either.<br />

In Fort Worth Maid, Lt. Malcolm MacGregor was not setting up his bombsight as<br />

they were going to bomb using PFF. "I stayed on the flight deck where there was a couch<br />

behind the pilot. It was directly across from the radio operator and underneath the top


44 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

turret. There was a small round window behind the pilot and over the couch. I was lying<br />

down, expecting a relaxing trip home. Kassel was not considered a very tough target but I<br />

was a little surprised by the lack of flak." Tail gunner Sgt. Herbert Schwartz saw planes<br />

flying through flak behind them and immediately reported this to his navigator FlO Robert<br />

T. Tims.<br />

In the deputy lead ship, the radar navigator turned offhis Mickey set so it would not<br />

interfere with the lead radar. The deputy Lead Navigator, 1st Lt. Donald D. Whitefield,<br />

was closely monitoring the developments. "My ETA to drop the bombs was eight minutes<br />

and when that ETA ran out, I got up from behind the pilot and saw smoke markers off to<br />

my right from other groups. Was I wrong? About four minutes later the lead dropped." The<br />

smoke bombs markers fell, leaving a stream ofwhite smoke .<br />

. At 09:42, "Bombs away" crackled over the interphones when the group toggled on<br />

the squadron leader's salvo. Thirty-five ships jumped up when the bombs dropped from the<br />

racks. The formation dove down 500 feet to gain speed and headed for home.<br />

Radio operator Sgt. Sammy Weiner returned to his position on the flight deck to hear<br />

the bomb strike message. He kept asking the nose turret gunner about flak and always, to<br />

his surprise, the answer was negative. The Pilot, Lt. Brent, sounded joyous when he spoke<br />

to the crew.<br />

Tail gunner, Sgt. Herbert Schwartz, heard copilot Lt. Robert Cochran saying that the<br />

roughest part ofthe mission was over.<br />

The 445 th Group was back to a 252 degree compass heading, paralleling the ordered<br />

course, but 8-to-10 miles east ofit.<br />

At this point the formation was pretty well scattered because ofthe turns. They were<br />

not yet back into the tight formation that was the pride of Colonel William Jones, their<br />

group commander. The fighter escort had not showed up for some time but that was not<br />

unusual because with their faster speed, the Little Friends moved back and forth along the<br />

bomber stream. There were periods oftime when the crews did not see them at all but they<br />

knew they were in the area.<br />

Hot Rock's rear turret gunner, Sgt. Frank Plesa, was wondering why the 445 th Group<br />

formation was away from the main wing. He felt they were alone and began to worry.<br />

Things were too quiet, it did not look normal.<br />

Despite the lack of flak or any other


The Flight<br />

45<br />

opposition that would lead one to think the return was going to be a milk run, he had an<br />

unusual feeling. His hand moved towards his shirt pocket where he kept his first<br />

communion rosary.<br />

King Kong's pilot, Lt. Baynham, felt so secure he unbuckled his chute harness to be<br />

more comfortable. Earlier on, in the waist, the gunners had made some comments that the<br />

mission was going to be a milk run, and it was turning out to be one: Suddenly. from the<br />

vantage point of his top turret, Sgt. Boldt noticed something like a swarm of bees or a flock<br />

of blackbirds rising out of a rice field. They were mere specks at the time but without a<br />

doubt a large number of fighters were coming up at six o'clock. "I called the tail gunner,<br />

SlSgt. John Knox, and asked if he had noticed them too. He replied 'Yes, and 1 sure hope<br />

that they are ours.' Simultaneously. I saw five or six flak bursts to the left of us. We caught<br />

a direct hit in the center of our left wing between No.1 and No.2 engines. It went through<br />

and left a round hole approximately 8 or 9 inches in diameter with the metal pulled straight<br />

up. The aileron was also damaged. I immediately tried to figure if this had hit any of our<br />

fuel tanks. This was where our landing gear well was located so it had missed our tanks."


The fight<br />

47<br />

Chapter 3<br />

THE FIGHT<br />

(In this chapter, the information is fUrnished by crew and in chronological order so the<br />

same crew may appear several times because ofthe timing oftheir experiences.)<br />

The BAYNHAM crew<br />

By the time Sgt. Howard Boldt looked back from the damaged left wing to the tail,<br />

the flock of blackbirds had closed in. They were GeIman fighters. "They came in and did<br />

not appear to use any evasive action. They were defmitely there to bring us down, one way<br />

or another. 1 felt that they were almost close enough to hit by throwing rocks at them. "<br />

The MERCER crew<br />

Lieutenant Jackson Mercer was flying NO.3 position in the lead element of the lowleft<br />

squadron. Tail gunner, S/Sgt. Hany 1. Lied, broke in on the intercom with "Bandits at 6<br />

o'clock level, ten or twelve across."<br />

"I immediately began an intercom check to ensure that all crew members were<br />

alerted, but before completing the check-in Lied interrupted - 'they're firing - looks like<br />

their wings are on fire, they're closing fast -' but the intercom went dead before he<br />

completed his message."<br />

The MOWAT crew<br />

Tail gunner, Sgt. Frank Plesa, was just removing his steel helmet and flak suit when<br />

all of a sudden thousands of bursts appeared all over in front of him. He heard the engineer<br />

coming over the intercom, asking, "What is that? Flak?"<br />

"Out of the clouds below," Plesa said, "I saw a wave of FW -190s coming in, about<br />

six or eight abreast. Their guns were ablaze with frre looking like flash bulbs taking<br />

pictures. 1 called over the intercom and reported them but our intercom was not working<br />

right. I could receive voices but they could not hear me. I heard top turret gunner, T/Sgt.<br />

Theodore 1. Myers, say, 'German fighters six o'clock,' and he started firing. Then I heard<br />

the left waist gunner, Sgt. Everette L. Williams, firing. 1 pushed the gun button and got off


48 C<strong>RUEL</strong>SXY<br />

about twenty rounds and at about 500 yards the attacking planes bellied over and went<br />

down."<br />

The DEWEY crew<br />

Lieutenant William Dewey heard his tail guIUler, Sgt. Ruben Montanez, yell: "I see<br />

fighters, I see flak." Then the ship began to shudder and shake, with the twin tail guns, and<br />

both waist guns fIring simultaneously, and from the impact of enemy shells. The intercom<br />

to the waist and tail went out within seconds.<br />

The HAUTMAN crew<br />

Copilot, Lt. Carroll Snidow, looked out of his window and saw what he at frrst<br />

thought was small flak - very heavy and close. "Looking at the ship ahead of us, 1 saw their<br />

waist guns fIring. Fighters. An FW-190 came alongside of us and seemed to be flying in<br />

formation with our lead ship. The shells were bursting around us everywhere."<br />

The REYNOLDS crew<br />

Moments after the tail gunner, Sgt. Hany G. Twigg, warned his crew: "Fighters, six<br />

o'clock." exploding shells were hitting Little Audrey. The left inboard engine spewed<br />

flames which reached back to the left rudder.<br />

In the nose, the navigator, Lt. James Withey, saw a fighter flashing between them<br />

and their wingman.<br />

The BRULAND crew<br />

Copilot, Lt. Peter Belitsos, was flying cross-cockpit when the attack started. "All at<br />

once several B-24s burst into flames. It happened so fast 1 did not see the enemy fighters<br />

and yet the sight of so many planes on frre was so riveting it seemed to be happening in<br />

slow motion. I was in a state of shock and disbelief and actually thought we were being hit<br />

by a German secret weapon."<br />

"Almost instantly the No.3 engine erupted in flames and Lt. Palmer M. Bruland took<br />

over the controls. The gunners were fIring and one of them shouted: 'Come on back you<br />

yellow bastards.' The thud of the hit on No. 3 engine and the fire snapped me out of my


The fight<br />

49<br />

disbelief of what was happening and 1 feathered the prop and cut off the fuel. There was a<br />

hole about 9 inches in diameter that broke through the edge of the prop."<br />

The WARMAN crew<br />

From the tail of Our Gal, piloted by 2nd Lt. Leslie E. Warman, Sgt. Raymond Ray<br />

had watched the German fighters ripping open the clouds, with all guns blazing. "I realized<br />

there was no way we could survive the attack, their force was overwhelming. 1 called on<br />

the intercom - 'bandits at six o'clock low' - and started firing at the echelon leader. He<br />

came so close 1 could see his goggles then he pulled above us and exploded."<br />

Glancing to his right (remember he was facing the rear of the plane) to the left<br />

wingman, flying a little below and behind Our Gal, he saw a stream of shells pouring into<br />

their fuselage and tail positions.<br />

The MINER crew<br />

Navigator, Lt. Frank Bertram, heard somebody callout that their fighter protection<br />

was coming. "I looked out my little side window and saw radial engines: P-47s. In the<br />

meantime black puffs showed up all arOlUld the plane. What kind of flak was this? It was<br />

so small and so unbelievably accurate at our level - the Jeny groWld gooners were amazing!<br />

The 'P-47s' peeled off and turned into FW-190s with all gWlS blazing. 1 put my chest chute<br />

on because 1 knew sooner or later we were goners, one way or the other."<br />

Lieutenant Reginald Miner, the pilot, looked down at the lead squadron and saw<br />

them Wlder attack by a flight of FW -190s flying line abreast. "I was flying on autopilot.<br />

That frrst pass damaged the controls, knocking out the autopilot. The frrst symptom was an<br />

abrupt move to a vertical climb. 1 overpowered that manually and was able to hold it<br />

straight and level with fairly heavy physical effort."<br />

Staff Sergeant Mertis C. Thornton Jr. aimed his top turret guns on a German fighter<br />

flying close to their left wing tip. But nothing came out of his twin .50. The frre interrupter<br />

had come into effect and the guns were electrically kept from shooting off the propellers,<br />

vertical stabilizers or a FW-190 flying close enough to the wing tip!<br />

The left waist gooner, Sgt. Lawrence Bowers, was doing a lot of shooting at bandits<br />

passing by. He was stWlned to see some ofhis bullets bouncing off the FW-190s.


50 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

The tail gunner S/Sgt. Arthur W. Lamberson didn't even get a chance to fire a shot<br />

because his hydraulic lines were cut by some splinters from the first exploding shells.<br />

The JONES crew<br />

In the nose turret, S/Sgt. Milton H. Lee watched a smalI flak burst just ahead of his<br />

plane. Then a B-24 was hit, exploded and went down in flames. "My attention then<br />

immediately focused on what I was there for and the gravity and the reality of the situation<br />

rushed through my mind. Alerting myself to the oncoming fighters which were<br />

approaching us, as soon as one came into sight, I fired until it was hit or out of sight."<br />

In the rear of A Roughhouse Kate, the attack brought on more confusion. The right<br />

waist gunner, S/Sgt. Willis A. Meier, called on radio: "Attack 3 o'clock low!" S/Sgt.<br />

Warren B. Pendleton misunderstood him and started to look for it. He thought that was an<br />

odd way to report flak. Simultaneously he heard splinters hitting the fuselage, which turned<br />

into a shining sieve.<br />

The UEBELHOER crew<br />

When tail gunner, S/Sgt. John S. Hubicz, called, "Great number of fighters behind<br />

us." Capt Web Uebelhoer had assumed they were Little Friends becoming bored.<br />

Exploding shells and his right wingman on rrre changed his mind.<br />

Radio operator, Sgt. Robert L. Sims, shot two green flares to get attention of the real<br />

Little Friends. Then he put on his chest pack, which he thought for sure he was going to<br />

need.<br />

The BOLIN crew<br />

The abort of the Schneider crew at Tibenham left Bolin's aircraft alone in the highright<br />

element of the low-left squadron. Bursts of 20-mm and 30-mm shells turned the ship<br />

into a wreck. The wing tanks took numerous hits and erupted in flames. Any chance of<br />

returning to base ended when the 100-plus octane aviation fuel exploded.<br />

Sergeant Orland 1. Schooley faced the rain of shells from his tail gun position. He<br />

was the only one to parachute safely from the blowtorch. Second Lieutenant Roy E. Bolin<br />

and the others remained with the ship or plummeted under burning chutes.


J<br />

Thejight<br />

51<br />

The ship went down east of Krauthausen.<br />

The POTTS crew<br />

It was now the tum of a high-right squadron ship, The Green Hornet, flying on the<br />

left-hand side of the formation in a position mirroring the position just vacated by Bolin<br />

when the exploding shells took her out.<br />

Copilot, 2nd Lt. Gerald J. Kathol had his hands full on his second mission in the<br />

ETO. He had flown to Hamm the day before and his tour now ended when pilot 2nd Lt.<br />

Herbert Potts reached for the bailout bell. Two sharp rings sounded to abandon ship, and<br />

crewmen made a run for the nearest emergency exits. The bomb bay doors were jammed<br />

shut and the rear of the bomb bay was a mass of flames. Some of thc crew headed up the<br />

tunnel to the nose, while Lt. Kathol and Sgt. Roger Scott, went back on the flight deck to<br />

exit from the top hatch. Scott was boosting Kathol up when the wing tanks exploded and<br />

the ship disintegrated. The copilot found himself straddling the nose. The nose section<br />

started to rotate as it descended. Kathol kicked off and opened his chute.<br />

The green hornet crashed one km. northeast of Archfeld, on the Hachenberg.<br />

The KRIVIK crew<br />

First Lieutenant Stanley E. Krivik and 2nd Lt. Leonard R. Trotta were flying Percy<br />

in No.6 position of the high-right squadron, tucked just behind and below Lt. Donald, the<br />

slot element leader.<br />

Their left waist gunner, S/Sgt. James R. Paul, was stunned when Potts' plane erupted<br />

in flames and went down though he saw no enemy fighters. "An instant later I was hit in<br />

the right leg by a .30 caliber machine gun bullet and a second later a 20-mm shell shattered<br />

my neck. At the same time S/Sgt. Henry A. Puto, our tail gunner, was blown completely<br />

out of the turret. The right waist gunner, S/Sgt. William Rand, was struck in the face by a<br />

shell fragment, just missing his eye. He was bleeding profusely. I put a compress on his<br />

eye and with the help of the cold temperature, the blood froze and the bleeding stopped.<br />

The sky was immediately full of FW -190s no matter where we looked. We lost an engine<br />

at the first FW-190 pass, he shot the prop off our right inboard engine."


52 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

The PEARSON crew<br />

Acrid cordite smoke from the top turret filled the flight deck. Copilot, Lt. Nelson<br />

Dimick, saw balls of exploding shells appearing just in front of his aircraft, leading the lowleft<br />

element of the lead squadron. "I looked out the left window and saw No.1 engine was<br />

on fire. Suddenly the instrument panel literally disintegrated in front of me. 1 could feel<br />

cannon shells exploding below in the nose compartment, under the two inches of armor of<br />

my seat. Second Lieutenant Arthur E. Steams, navigator, and bombardier, FlO Henry 1.<br />

Henrikson, must have been killed instantly, they didn't have any armor protection under<br />

them.<br />

"McCoy and his two wingmen were flying away from us as we lost power: engines<br />

No.1 and No.2 shot out and on fire. 1 looked at Ralph, our eyes met and he waved to bail<br />

out. I did not need any encouragement. In some 30 seconds or less, the aircraft had been<br />

turned into a flaming wreck. I turned in my seat and moved to the rear. Engineer, T/Sgt.<br />

Robert D. Johnson, had trouble finding his chest pack. I faced a wall of fife in the bomb<br />

bay; it was the only way out. There was absolutely no hesitation on· my part. 1 dove<br />

through the flames and landed on my back on the bomb bay catwalk. Somehow I fell free of<br />

the aircraft."<br />

Tail gunner, S/Sgt. Dwight F. Galyon, took a 20-mm round in the chest. Luckily his<br />

flak vest stopped the exploding fragments, and all he received was a severe blow. He<br />

continued to fife at the attackers and observed some hits on a second enemy aircraft. But it<br />

was a no-win situation.<br />

Sergeant Harry Tachovsky, the right waist gunner, ran out of ammunition. After<br />

seeing that the bomb bay was on fire and the deteriorating condition of the ship, there was<br />

nothing more to do but bailout.<br />

After 2nd Lt. Ralph H. Pearson had ordered the crew to abandon ship, he felt terribly<br />

alone. "For a while it was quiet. The plane was flying fme, all engines were running, it<br />

was just me and this B-24 cruising along through this beautiful sky at 25,000 feet. Then,<br />

snap! The control wheel went limp in my hands. The elevator cables had burned through.<br />

I flung off my oxygen mask and helmet and headed for the fIfe and bomb bay. As I turned,<br />

I suddenly saw Sergeant Johnson behind the pilot's seat. He was bent over, buckling on his<br />

last leg strap. When he straightened up, I gave him a visual inspection. We only had split


The fight<br />

53<br />

seconds as the plane was out of control. I stepped back to my left and waved for him to<br />

jump out. He, in turn, waved for me to go. I felt like grabbing the bastard and throwing<br />

him out, but there wasn't time. The plane was going down. There wasn't time to argue. It<br />

hurt my pride, but I waved for him to follow, and I jumped."<br />

The plane went down near Herleshausen, 200 meters south of Siegelshof Hahnhof.<br />

The WALTHER crew<br />

Before the attack, the high-high-right squadron had "essed" over to the left of the<br />

lead squadron where some Gennan fighters caught it in the open. The three preceding<br />

aborts had depleted the right side of the formation. Flying as Smith's right wingman,<br />

Walther's aircraft was the last ship in this formation, and consequently, was attracting<br />

Jerries' attention like a magnet. One came and pressed his attack with such determination<br />

that the FW-190 rammed the B-24 tail unit, sending the plane out of control. In the<br />

following explosion, pilot 1st Lt. Edgar N. Walther was thrown clear of the plane, but,<br />

fortunately, was wearing his back pack parachute.<br />

The ship went down at Lauchroden.<br />

The BRENT crew<br />

Lieutenant Walter George was flying Eileen when the attack came. He tightened up<br />

on his wingman and concentrated on the controls. "I was aware of our guns firing, and also<br />

aware that we were being hit; I could see holes in the nose of the airplane. The navigator,<br />

Lt. Harold Mercier, and the nose turret gunner, S/Sgt. George B. Linkletter, must have been<br />

killed by the projectiles coming from the bottom of the aircraft. Pilot, Lt. Donald Brent,<br />

was quiet in his seat but okay."<br />

One burst of a 20-millimeter shell ripped open the liaison transmitter only two feet in<br />

front of Sgt. Sammy Weiner. Splinters from the shell pierced his right leg. The stinging<br />

sensation made him mad: "Those damn Jerrys," he kept repeating.<br />

The JOHNSON crew<br />

When the call for fighters came, bombardier, Lt. James Dowling, called 2nd Lt.<br />

Herbert M. Bateman to put his chest chute on. The navigator acknowledged by saying he


54 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

was too busy. By this time, the enemy fighters had closed in. The bombardier saw an FWft<br />

190 colored light blue a few hundred feet below the nose of Fridget Bridget. He called 2nd<br />

Lt. William E. Flickner in the nose turret who pointed his twin 50 calibers down. Dowling<br />

saw hits all over the wings and the plane spun in.<br />

The MERCER crew<br />

Copilot, Lt. Leo Pouliot, had noticed that the tail gunner of the lead ship was firing<br />

at something. Then their own plane started to quiver as the gunners opened fITe.<br />

Simultaneously, small puffs of smoke appeared throughout the formation. The copilot had<br />

his radio tuned to the fighter channel. "I called for escort: Balance 3ft 1, 3-2, and 3-3. They<br />

acknowledged immediately. 1 said bandits were attacking us. Before I could switch the<br />

jackbox to interphone to get our position from the navigator, we were hit and the radio went<br />

out. I saw the German fighters as they broke away past us, black crosses standing out on<br />

wings and fuselage. Our plane shook like a leaf in a blizzard from the guns all frring at the<br />

same time."<br />

The left waist gunner, S/Sgt. Harry L. Wheaton, saw an FW-190, coming from<br />

behind the tail fm. "His fITst 20-mm shell came in just to the right of me and blew the<br />

oxygen system out. His next shell went through the comer of the bomb bay. His third shell<br />

went into our No.2 gas cell, but did not explode. We survived his attack, but he did not<br />

survive mine, I downed him."<br />

The MOWAT crew<br />

Sgt. Frank Plesa says, "I was a little short in keeping my eyes focused on the sight<br />

which made me sit up and stretch up more than normal." This caused the right waist<br />

gunner, S/Sgt. John B. Neher Jr., to ask, 'What's wrong Frank?'"<br />

"The planes of both Lt. Seeds and Lt. Elder were on fire. The wings of one of them<br />

blew right off and the fuselage just dropped down like a big ball of fire and black smoke.<br />

Lt. Fromm's plane was on fITe too. I was mad."


The fight<br />

55<br />

The SEEDS crew<br />

A flight of FW -190s had closed on the low-left squadron, raining hell at point~blank<br />

range, In a few seconds, they transfonned the two ships composing the low-left element<br />

into burning twins.<br />

Second Lieutenants Andrew G. Seeds and Michael 1. Luongo began to have trouble<br />

controlling Steady Hedy. When the frrst engine erupted in flames, the copilot hit the<br />

propeller feathering button, moved mixture control to "IDLE CUT -OFF," closed the<br />

throttle, turned the ignition switch to "OFF," and finally turned the fuel supply to "dead<br />

engine OFF" at the main selector valve.<br />

A second engine was crippled and fires spread quickly on both wings, the fuel cells<br />

threatening to explode at any moment. When the pilots tried the controls, they found them<br />

loose, almost unresponsive. They knew that the flames were doing their destructive job,<br />

consuming everything in range, from the aluminum skin to the structure itself. The airfoil<br />

could break in midair without any warning.<br />

As things quickly deteriorated from bad to worse, the young skipper felt a gripping<br />

fear and near panic as his mind anticipated a ghastly future. But there was no time to<br />

waste. The crew had to be called and given the order to bailout. The copilot tried the<br />

intercom while the pilot hit the bailout bell. Emergency alarm bells rang in the nose turret,<br />

navigator-bombardier's compartment, rear fuselage compartment, and tail gun turret.<br />

Suddenly the wings blew up. Needing no further explanation about the status of the<br />

ship, the crewmen scrambled to get their chutes on. Struggle for dear life ended when the<br />

wingless fuselage nosed down and fell to earth. The men were thrown to the ceiling. Hard<br />

as they tried, they were unable to overcome the force pinning them. Then, slowly, the<br />

fuselage flipped on its back and started to barrel. The nose and tail turrets fell off the metal<br />

rings on which they were mounted.<br />

The crew was in the middle of a maelstrom of pieces of equipment, ammunition<br />

boxes, spent cases, and bags. Happy those who had been killed instantly. It was only a<br />

matter of time until what was left of their B-24 would slam into the ground. Some resigned<br />

themselves to the fact that their time had run out. Others did not give up the struggles to<br />

escape their rotating coffm, the escape hatches were so close and life was outside. Death<br />

caught them all when the fuselage exploded.


56 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y <br />

Steady Hedy went down 1.8 kIn southwest of Lauchroden. <br />

The SOLLIEN crew<br />

The relaxing trip home expected by bombardier Lt. Malcom MacGregor was<br />

shattered when Fort Worth Maid's top turret guns started firing. "I looked out the small<br />

window behind the pilot and saw an FW -190 with its belly toward me rolling over the left<br />

wing of the airplane. I saw machine gun bullets bouncing off the bottom of the fighter. I<br />

thought what a pretty plane it was."<br />

"Realizing we were in cmnbat, I decided to get my parachute. It was a chest pack<br />

and I stored it by the catwalk to the nose in front of the bomb bays. I unplugged my oxygen<br />

hose and I jumped down to the front of the catwalk and as I looked to the rear of the ship I<br />

saw bullets coming through the bomb bays and exploding about 30 inches above the bomb<br />

bay doors. They were exploding about three feet apart. Fortunately, the last one exploded<br />

about three feet from my right side. I was standing sideways on the catwalk and the last<br />

bullet sent pieces of shrapnel into my legs. I was lucky enough one more round was not<br />

fired or I could have been seriously hurt. At this point I put on my chest parachute by<br />

hooking it to the snaps on the front of my harness."<br />

"I looked at Carl Sollien, the pilot, and he was looking at me. He had naturally large<br />

eyes and now they looked extremely large. He pointed down with his fmgers and I knew I<br />

was to bailout. By this time I was full of adrenaline because everything seemed to be<br />

moving in slow motion. Even the exploding shells had seemed to be happening very<br />

slowly. I grabbed the handle used to open the bomb bay doors and activated the<br />

mechanism. The right side of the doors did not open at all. The left side opened about half<br />

way. I dove for the opening and just then the plane spun and I landed on the left side of the<br />

bomb bay doors that had not opened. I realized gasoline was pouring out of the bomb bay.<br />

I rolled and found myself outside of the plane."<br />

Sergeant Ammi Miller was busy firing back at three Gennan fighters when he felt<br />

the ship going into a flat spin. He quickly unfastened his flak suit, which hit the radio<br />

operator in the back. "I released the seat on my turret, dropping down to the flight deck. I<br />

realized that I had disconnected my oxygen supply tube from my mask, and needed to<br />

descend as quickly as possible."


The fight<br />

57<br />

Sergeant Charles Graham glanced at the pilot and saw 1st Lt. Carl J. Sollien pulling<br />

back on the controls. Graham stood up and took off his flak suit. Then he helped the top<br />

turret gunner to snap his chute on before donning his own chest pack. They went both on<br />

the catwalk. Miller bailed out frrst through the bomb bay door with Graham on his heels.<br />

The navigator, 2nd Lt. Wesley L. Hudelson, had just gone through the nose wheel<br />

door when the pilots decided to leave the plane. When the copilot got up to leave the plane,<br />

his back pack got caught. Lt. Sollien pushed him loose, but when he started to leave, he<br />

found 2nd Lt. William H. Koenig lying on the flight deck. Sollien assumed he was dead so<br />

he bailed out through the bomb bay.<br />

Fort Worth Maid went down 1.5 km west of Herleshausen, at the border between<br />

Wommen and Nesselroden.<br />

The HAUTMAN crew<br />

Mairzy Doats copilot, Lt. Carroll Snidow, saw an FW-190 low at two o'clock and in<br />

a sharp bank with its left landing gear down. "About that time something hit my window,<br />

put a hole in it and one piece scratched my knuckle in two places. In the meantime, S/Sgt.<br />

Gordon F. Waldron, our tail gunner, was injured in the leg. Technical Sergeant Thomas W.<br />

Land, our top turret man, was really frring his guns. An FW-190 was coming in on top of us<br />

and Land blew him out ofthe sky."<br />

"Our No.4 engine propeller 'ran away.' We started to feather it but it was too late,<br />

as our oil pressure was gone. Then I looked at our number four engine. The whole<br />

propeller and engine was coming out of the wing. What a sight! The propeller, whirling in<br />

its full velocity, made a 90 degrees turn and came toward me. I thought I had 'bought the<br />

farm' then. The prop came over into the number three engine and knocked it out of the<br />

wmg. Prop and pieces of prop were going everywhere. Luckily, none hit the ship."<br />

But the wounded Liberator staggered away. Lieutenant Edward Hautman and his<br />

crew were now all by themselves unable to keep up with the remainder of the lead<br />

squadron.<br />

The GOLDEN crew<br />

Through the window of Ole Baldy's radio position, Sgt. Jack Erickson saw FW -190s


58 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

flashing by. "Everywhere I looked I saw the Swastika-marked aircraft. The sky seemed to<br />

be full of them. In horror, I saw our right wingman take many hits. Debris was showering<br />

from the B-24. As it started to peal off it suddenly broke in two just aft of the wing and the<br />

two pieces plummeted toward the earth. No parachutes emerged from the flaming pieces."<br />

"Pivoting my stool around, I looked out through the windshield between Lt. William<br />

Golden and Lt. Robert Christie just as the lead ship of our element disintegrated. Debris<br />

from the stricken bomber was streaming back straight toward our aircraft. mstinctively I<br />

put my arms up to shield my face. I believe that none of the debris hit our ship as the<br />

slipstream apparently carried it above us."<br />

"The voices of our gunners were screaming fighter locations over the intercom. Our<br />

Liberator was shaking and vibrating from the recoil ofthe machine gun frre."<br />

The DEWEY crew<br />

Top turret gunner T/Sgt. Charles Craig, reported that there were enemy fighters on<br />

their tail. The pilot could see Lt. Smith's tail gunner motioning to him to tuck A Wallet A<br />

Abel in closer.<br />

His own tail gunner, S/Sgt. Reuben Montanez, was dealing with three FW-190s<br />

attacking from 6 o'clock low. He singled out the element leader and fired at approximately<br />

450 yards away. Two hundred rounds and 300 yards later, the FW-190 engine caught frre.<br />

It peeled off to his right, his right wing catching fire. Then the enemy aircraft blew up in<br />

mid-air. The other two fighters broke offthe attack<br />

Both waist gunners went down. S/Sgt. George R. Jolmson, manning the right waist<br />

gun, was hit in the leg but managed to climb back to his gun. The left waist gunner, S/Sgt.<br />

Walther J. Bartkow, was also wounded, but was far from out.<br />

The JONES crew<br />

Suddenly it was the turn of A Roughhouse Kate, piloted by 2nd Lt. Howard A.<br />

Jones. Waist gunner, Sgt. Willis Meier spotted an FW-190 and frred a long burst. He<br />

scored several hits, and the fighter began to smoke. The Germans still pressed their attacks<br />

on the high-right squadron. Their wingman was lit up like a Christmas tree from the 20-mm<br />

shells exploding.


The fight<br />

59<br />

When an FW -190 attacked from six o'clock low coming up in a slight climb, the men<br />

in the rear fell to the floor, hit by fragments of numerous exploding shells. The right waist<br />

gunner, S~. Meier, was blown up against the roof by the blast. The left waist gunner, Sgt.<br />

Warren Pendleton, was shot in the butt and fell into a 20-mm hole in the fuselage.<br />

Simultaneously, the tail turret stopped working; the hydraulic system had been punctured<br />

and the fluid set on fIre.<br />

Engulfed in flames, the tail gunner, S/Sgt. Raymond J. Paulus, stumbled out of his<br />

burning turret in search of help. There was nothing the wounded waist gunners could do in<br />

those frantic moments. Paulus burned to death near the camera hatch.<br />

Meier came to, removed his flak suit, and attached his chest pack. In pain from<br />

numerous wounds, including a burned hand, he managed to climb over his gun and bailout<br />

through the waist window. Pendelton went out the other waist window just after him.<br />

In the nose turret, Sgt. Milton Lee felt the ship bucking and shuddering. He could<br />

see that they were leaving the fonnation and veering off to the right.<br />

The copilot. 2nd Lt. Harold P. Allen, set the automatic pilot. A bail-out call came<br />

through the intercom.<br />

In the hurried process of reaching for and putting on his chest pack, the navigator,<br />

2nd Lt. Robert Fulton, accidentally snagged the chute's D-ring which popped the parachute<br />

inside the nose compartment. He managed to gather it into his arms and, still struggling<br />

with his deployed parachute, left through the nose hatch.<br />

He was followed by the nose turret gunner, bombardier, 2nd Lt. Joseph A. Wilski,<br />

and radio operator, T/Sgt. William C. Stremme. The engineer, T/Sgt. Andrew Fratta, who<br />

had been hit in the head, was slumped on the turret pedestal.<br />

A Roughhouse Kate went down at Eichsfeld, I km east of Doringsdorf.<br />

The DONALD crew<br />

In the nose of the aircraft piloted by 1st Lt. Myron H. Donald, bombardier 1st Lt. Ira<br />

P. Weinstein was busy fuing his guns. Navigator, 2nd Lt. Eric W. Smith Jr., pulled him out<br />

of his turret. "As I turned around I saw him go out the nose wheel hatch. My parachute<br />

straps got caught by equipment so when I bailed out I was dangling out of the airplane,<br />

which was on fire and in a flat spin. I managed to chin myself back into the plane and jump


60 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

out again. By that time, we were only 2,500 feet above the ground."<br />

The plane went down at Nesselroden, 1 km northeast ofZiegenberg.<br />

The SCHAEN crew<br />

Bombardier, Lt. George Collar, was manning the nose turret. Suddenly he heard a<br />

sound like sledgehammer blows hitting the plane. The left wing was hit and on fITe.<br />

Simultaneously, there was an explosion lUlder his turret. The attacking FW-190 streaked<br />

overhead not more than a few feet above his guns. He tried to shoot him, but the turret<br />

controls were inoperative. The previous explosion had probably severed the power lines.<br />

He was stunned, as no warning signal had come from the tail before the German hit them.<br />

He glanced down at the lead squadron and watched with horror as the fighters attacked<br />

them. At least two of the bombers were on fITe, including the lead plane.<br />

Navigator, 2nd Lt. Corman H. Bean, peered out of the bubble in the nose. He saw<br />

that the back end of their ship was all shot up. When he heard the bailout bell ring, he<br />

reached up and pulled the bombardier out of the nose turret. The nose section looked like<br />

Swiss cheese. The whole left wing was on fITe. The navigator opened the nose wheel door<br />

and they both bailed out.<br />

Copilot, Lt. Bobby McGough, could not get the bomb bay open. So he went to the<br />

nose wheel compartment to bailout. He was followed by the engineer, T/Sgt. George S.<br />

Eppley, and radio operator, T/Sgt. Robert L. Collins.<br />

The ship went down 3.5 kilometers northwest of Gerstungen.<br />

The BRENT crew<br />

Thanks to his coffm seat, Lt. Walter George had survived the fITst attack. But Eileen<br />

had not escape unscathed. The instruments on the No. 3 engine indicated that it was<br />

running wild. "1 looked to my right and saw that it was shot up and burning. We were<br />

beginning to lose altitude. Should 1 hit the fITe extinguisher? 1 didn't."<br />

"Lt. Donald Brent motioned that he would take over the controls, pointed with his<br />

right index finger straight down with two agitated thrusts. 1 pushed the alarm button for<br />

bailout, tried unsuccessfully to reach the nose compartment, waist, and tail gunner by<br />

intercom. No answer came back. Was the intercom out? We had to give the crew enough


Thejight<br />

61<br />

time to bailout."<br />

"The radio operator or the engineer was supposed to open the bomb bay doors which<br />

were our' exit Then they were to bailout. Then I was to go and then the pilot was to go<br />

last. Assuming that one had opened the bomb bay doors and was already out, I removed<br />

my flak suit, disconnected my oxygen mask, and headed for the exit ~~<br />

"To my surprise, the radio operator, Sgt. Sammy Weiner, was there in a daze with no<br />

parachute harness on. I shoved his parachute harness toward him. The engineer, T ISgt.<br />

Constant Galuszewski, was in the top turret still sighting enemy aircraft. I poked his rear<br />

hard and pointed down. I glanced outward from the top turret position."<br />

"One FW -190 was flying right next to us, upside down, splitting into a dive. Another<br />

FW-190 was shooting at a B-24 to our left from the rear. The FW had full flaps and<br />

landing gear down."<br />

"I dropped on the flight deck and opened the door to the bomb bay; a wall of flame<br />

met me. The bomb door switch was in a ball of concentrated flame. If we had no hydraulic<br />

pressure, the doors would not open, and we would be trapped inside the burning aircraft. I<br />

planned to run through the flames, hit the switch on the way and proceed to the manual<br />

operation controls in the center of the bomb bay that would open the doors. I did not know<br />

whether I could last long enough in the flames to operate the controls as the bomb bay<br />

doors opened by the action of the switch. I ran. Flames were spouting from ruptured lines<br />

in various places in the bomb bay. The worst of it was the giant blowtorch made by the<br />

spouting fuel gauges by the door into the cockpit area. The bomb bay doors opened, even if<br />

I could not really defme the limits of the opening."<br />

"I felt that I had to see that the radio operator and the engineer were out of the<br />

aircraft. So, I went back through the blowtorch as fast as I could and through the still open<br />

door. The engineer was still in the turret I pulled him down. The radio operator was on his<br />

knees trying to attach his chute. At this point the pilot came between the three of us, made<br />

some comment to the radio operator and went on out Sergeant Weiner waved me to go<br />

out So I went through the blowtorch again, in a cannon ball position."<br />

The radio operator was in fact fighting with his brand new parachute harness. "It<br />

was so tight and uncomfortable that I had removed it hours before. Instantly I was on my<br />

knees, trying to fasten the buckles. Nervously I pulled with all my strength, holding my


62 CRUE1-, <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

breath, sucking in my ribs. My life was hanging by a thread."<br />

Just after the radio operator got his chute attached, he took off for the bomb bays.<br />

"There was a sudden, thunderous blast and the plane broke completely in two. I was being<br />

crazily tossed all around the flight deck while the tottering half of the plane was still<br />

running on the remaining engine. Bruised and battered, but fully conscious, I tried to get<br />

myself into an upright position. The broken piece of ship was wobbling like a dangling<br />

teeter totter toward the earth.<br />

"'I've got to make it,' I was muttering crazily. And then, suddenly, the section shot<br />

straight into the sky, throwing me out into the welcome blue space, before it plummeted to<br />

earth."<br />

Eileen went down 2.5 km south-east of Ulfen (south-east of Blinde Miihle).<br />

The WARMAN crew<br />

A burst of machine gun fire hit the bullet-resistant glass of Sgt. Raymond Ray's tail<br />

turret. A few seconds later another shell blew the glass out and disabled his guns: "The<br />

next 20-mm shell blew me out of the turret. I did a backward summersault and landed 15<br />

feet into the aircraft between S/Sgt. Carl W. Forster and Charles G. Pakenstein. The waist<br />

gunners were laying on the floor. I assumed they were dead. Our Gal's tail was on fIfe and<br />

the bomb bay had turned to an inferno. I opened the escape hatch and rolled out."<br />

On the other side of this firewall, engineer, S/Sgt. Wilbur E. Brown, left his top<br />

turret and bailed out. He was soon followed by nose gunner, S/Sgt. Francis R. E. Barnish,<br />

and navigator, 2nd Lt. Francis W. Costley.<br />

Our Gal went down 1 km south-east of Gerstungen.<br />

The JOHNSON crew<br />

Fridget Bridget's tail turret was hit and S/Sgt. Floyd L. Jackson landed on the floor<br />

between the two waist gunners. The left waist, S/Sgt. Rubin 1. Sisco, and right waist, S/Sgt.<br />

Alan M. Baldwin, helped him back in the turret.<br />

One minute later, it was Baldwin's turn to be thrown to the floor. His 50 cal. gun<br />

was cut off by an exploding shell and landed on top of him. A shell came up under the<br />

belly of the ship and tore off the nose wheel doors. Immediately the wheel dropped out.


The fight<br />

63<br />

The force of the explosion hit the bombardier, Lt. James Dowling, in the back and blew off<br />

his flying helmet: "I recovered from the blast and turned around to see the navigator, Lt.<br />

Herbert Bateman, half out of the ship. He was bloody and staring at me. When I tried to<br />

lift his leg in, the slipstream took him and he fell through the open space. Smoke was<br />

everywhere, 1 could hardly see the nose turret, which was badly shot up and torn away. Lt.<br />

William Flickner must have been killed instantly."<br />

At the same time, the pilot, Lt. Joseph Johnson, announced on the intercom that the<br />

No. 3 engine was just blasted out of the wing and yelled: "Bailout!" The bell was ringing.<br />

Dowling quickly checked his chute and rolled out of the nose wheel compartment.<br />

Fridget Bridget went down at Breitau, 1 km north of Erbberg.<br />

The ELDER crew<br />

Tail gunner, S/Sgt. Stanley H. Morse, glanced down to his right just when the Seeds'<br />

aircraft lost its wings and dropped down. But his own plane, Clay Pigeon, which was the<br />

low, left element leader, was in flames too and was likely to fmd the same fate at any time.<br />

And, very shortly, this is what happened. The plane, piloted by 1st Lt. Oliver B. Elder blew<br />

up, killing her pilot and four members of the crew.<br />

Navigator, 1st Lt. Harold P. Whidden Jr. made his escape via the nose compartment.<br />

Copilot, 2nd Lt. Roy E. Ellender, and engineer, T/Sgt. Paul E. de Vries, escaped from the<br />

flight deck. Tail gunner, Sgt. Morse, was the only one to parachute safely from the rear.<br />

Clay Pigeon went down 1 km. south west of Lindenau.<br />

The FROMM crew<br />

As the German fighters kept pressing their attacks, the low-left squadron continued<br />

to melt away. The left and right elements had ceased to exist and Johnson's ship had fallen<br />

from its position on the right wing of the 703 rd squadron lead ship. The aircraft piloted by<br />

1st Lt. Richard Fromm was flying just behind Johnson's position and was already on fire.<br />

Because of this, Lt. Fromm sounded the alarm to abandon ship. In just a few<br />

minutes, he had seen so many ships in flames blowing up that he decided to give his men<br />

enough time to get their chutes on and bailout. All of the crew, except copilot, 2nd Lt.


64 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Edward A. Globis, were able to parachute safely, although tail gunner, S/Sgt. Lee H.<br />

Coffin, nearly ended up in a wooden version of his own last name.<br />

Soon after the men left the plane, the right wing of the now pilotless airplane<br />

dropped and the ship headed in a northwesterly direction. It was as if it were picking a spot<br />

to rest, distancing itself from the cruel sky where so many ships in the 445 th Group were<br />

dying.<br />

The plane fmally went down 400 m south of Reichenbach (Hessisch Lichtenau).<br />

The FRENCH crew<br />

Flying his last, but what turned out to by his most eventful mission, Lt. John French<br />

had tried to maintain his position in fonnation as tight as possible, but so many planes were<br />

going down, there simply wasn't a fonnation anymore.<br />

Right waist gunner Sgt. Charles Huddlestun got two fighters. One was hit and<br />

caught on fire at 75 or 100 yards during a level attack. The other was hit in a low attack<br />

and blew up: "I saw either the pilot of that ship or one American bailout."<br />

From the tail, Sgt. Herbert Schwartz heard his pilot come on the intercom telling his<br />

men to take it easy and relax: "A hell of a remark to make at this time. One FW -190 came<br />

for my tail and 1 started shooting, he pulled beneath our bomber streaming smoke. 1 had a<br />

four second break at this point and looked over at Lt. Bruce's ship. There were seven<br />

fighters attacking from his tail and one coming in at his side, all firing as they came in. All<br />

his gunners were fIring back, their guns blazing, and just then another fighter attacked from<br />

above. 1 don't believe the top turret man saw him as he was busy fIring at the other ships.<br />

So 1 trained my guns on this particular plane and gave him a few short bursts as 1 was afraid<br />

of hitting Lt. Bruce's ship."<br />

"Immediately following'this, another fighter came at me. 1 started fIring. 1 knew my<br />

bullets were hitting him because he came in so close that it was practically impossible for<br />

me to miss. 1 saw his wing tip falloff and the plane started to spin to the ground. But 1<br />

caught a glimpse of the pilot of this ship after his chute had opened. It<br />

"Another few seconds break for me, but then 1 saw Lt. Bruce's plane engulfed in<br />

flames. It happened in a matter of seconds."


The fight<br />

65<br />

The BRUCE crew<br />

Twenty and 30-rom shells had turned Bonnie Vie into a wreck, but she was still<br />

flying. However, her logbook would bear no more mission entries.<br />

Pilot, 2nd Lt. William S. Bruce, realized it was just a hopeless situation. "There<br />

were just too many of the enemy fighters. I saw at least seven ships go down in flames:<br />

four from our Group plus several Gennan ships. Our fighters were nowhere in sight. I<br />

could not understand where the hell they could be."<br />

"Our ship had been hit several times - two engines were on fITe and the interior of<br />

the ship was in shambles. The gunners kept firing, but finally they were all wounded or<br />

dead. By this time I knew we were in serious trouble with no hope of staying in the air any<br />

longer. I finally gave the bailout order because only one engine was running and it not too<br />

well. I asked my copilot to unbuckle my seat belt before he bailed out. Just as he stood up<br />

to do so a 20-rom shell cut him in half"<br />

The repeated calls and bail-out bell rings were ineffective to revive the dead or help<br />

the seriously wounded to leave the plane. The nose, waist and tail areas remained deadly<br />

silent. Only the men of the flight deck could make it. But the Gennans were detennined to<br />

bring this flying wreck down, one way or another.<br />

The coup de grace came when a Gennan fighter rammed the right wing. The whole<br />

airfoil peeled off and the asymmetric ship flipped on her back The blazing left wing tanks<br />

exploded, followed by the fuselage itself Miraculously, the destructive power of the blast<br />

threw the pilot and the radio operator, T/Sgt. Peter Pogovich out of the cart-wheeling<br />

remains of the B-24. Fortunately both had already donned their chutes.<br />

What was left of Bonnie VIe crashed 1 km west of Richelsdorf.<br />

The HANSEN crew<br />

Pilot, 2nd Lt. Robert N. Hansen, was trying to keep his ship tucked on the left wing<br />

of the slot element leader. His radio operator, T/Sgt. James M. Triplett, was sitting behind<br />

him with nothing more to do than watch the ships going down one by one. The radio waves<br />

were carrying only distress calls. Since there were no Little Friends in sight, this "sit and<br />

take-it" defensive posture became nerve-wracking. Then, the electrical system was shot out<br />

and all communication stopped inside the battered ship.


66 CRUE1J<strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Bombardier, 2nd Lt John C. Woodley, told his navigator to jump fIrst, but 2nd Lt<br />

Porter M. Pile, declined his offer. So the bombardier bailed out, hoping the wounded<br />

navigator would follow him.<br />

In the rear, the right waist gunner, S/Sgt. S. E. Howell Jr., was shot in the lower left<br />

chest. The left waist gunner, S/Sgt. Elwyn 1. Hornsby, pushed him out the escape hatch.<br />

Then he bailed out Tail gunner, S/Sgt. Ralph H. Bode, was standing by the escape hatch,<br />

ready to leave.<br />

On the flight deck, Lt. Hansen kept on flying the plane. Engineer, T ISgt. Charles C.<br />

Palmer, and radio operator, Triplett, were standing by the top escape hatch dubious about<br />

jumping. Off oxygen, copilot, 2nd Lt. Herbert C. Bridges Jr., went out the top escape<br />

hatch, hoping the others would follow. But the B-24, punched by numerous shells,<br />

shuddered, erupted in flames and exploded.<br />

Six men died, trapped inside or tumbling down helplessly. The wreck crashed 2 km<br />

southwest of Richelsdorf.<br />

The MOWAT crew<br />

Inside the top turret of Hot Rock, engineer, Sgt. Theodore Myers, fIred his guns until<br />

they became too hot. "They kept jamming and I couldn't charge them any more. A shell<br />

exploded near the top of my turret and it looked like one of the guns was bent. The smoke<br />

of the shell got on the glass and I could not see out. I pressed the intercom switch to call<br />

the pilot and tell him my turret was out. But the intercom wasn't working, so I got out to<br />

warn him."<br />

When he stepped down on the flight deck, he felt a heavy vibration in the plane. "I<br />

looked forward and saw the pilots for an instant. Lt. William Mowat and 2nd Lt. Orville P.<br />

Smet seemed OK. The radio operator, T/Sgt. Earl B. Groves, was sitting on the floor at my<br />

feet with his flak suit and helmet on; he seemed to be all right too. I looked through the<br />

door going into the bomb bays; several large streams of gasoline were shooting down<br />

against the bomb bay doors, and around the inside of the plane.<br />

"A mist of gas was floating up forward onto the flight deck. The frrst thing that<br />

came into my mind was to try to stop it. I knew that if a shell ever entered the ship with all<br />

that gasoline squirting around, the ship would explode. I climbed down into the bomb bays


The fight 67<br />

to look at the holes in the gasoline tanks hoping they would seal themselves, but the holes<br />

were too large to seal up. 1 decided to open the bomb bay doors and let the slipstream blow<br />

it out of the ship. During this time, 1 got soaked from head to toe with gas. I went back to<br />

open the bomb bay doors and the slipstream started to clear up the inside some."<br />

"1 started to turn around to get on the flight deck to tell the pilot we had been hit bad<br />

and were losing gas fast, when one or more 20 mm shells went offunder my feet, wounding<br />

me in both legs. The blast lifted me up and I fell on my back on the catwalk. At the same<br />

time, 1 saw a blinding flash. I was on ftre from head to foot. I felt my face burning. 1<br />

thought 1 was dying."<br />

An FW-190 was flying a tight formation with Hot Rock, blasting the hell out ofa B­<br />

24 in front. The tail gunner, Sgt. Frank Plesa, saw the FW, who was right off their tail, a<br />

little behind the left rudder: "He was so close I could see his goggles easy. I had seen three<br />

of our ships going down in flames and nobody bailing out; 1 was mad. I swung the turret<br />

and opened up on him. Immediately, parts of his cowling came off and 1 ended up aiming<br />

at the pilot's head. I gave him about 20-25 rounds."<br />

"Then 1 heard and felt something go off under my right foot. I looked down. There<br />

was a six or eight inch hole right in front of my right foot. Then, in a split second, 1 saw a<br />

flash, and a puff of smoke hit my left gun. The concussion of this shell bent the barrel up<br />

and blew off the top-front bullet proof glass. 1 was blown out of my position like a horse<br />

kicked me in the chest, and I landed on my left side on the catwalk. Some hydraulic lines<br />

and aluminum sheet held up my right foot. I could hear the control cables on pulleys near<br />

me, even saw them move. I was wounded in the right leg, the chest, and left forearm.<br />

These places became all numb and I felt helpless. High-octane flavor came through my<br />

oxygen mixer. 1 looked in vain for the waist gunners to help me."<br />

"The right waist gunner, Sgt. John Neher, was down, probably mortally wounded or<br />

killed. I could not see him too well for he was directly behind me: a brown-suited body<br />

down."<br />

"The left waist gunner, S/Sgt. Everette L. Williams, was still ftring his gun with the<br />

right hand only. His left side was all red from blood but he was still ftghting."<br />

"Then the ftre burned through the plywood door that separated us from the bomb<br />

bays. The inferno started to come through the fuselage. By then the intercom system was


68 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

all gone. It got hotter than hell and I thought I was going to bum to death. I covered my<br />

face and eyes with my hands and saw my life flash in front of me. I saw my family<br />

receiving the KIA (Killed In Action) telegram and asking God for help. I started the death<br />

scream then I heard a big 'woof.' A big force was pushing on me and everything turned<br />

black."<br />

Hot Rock went down 1.5 km north of Honebach in Wildecker Forest.<br />

The BAYNHAM crew<br />

After about one hundred rounds, King Kong's top turret guns jammed. Sgt. Howard<br />

Boldt saw a lot of smoke coming up from the fuselage, he glanced at the window in the<br />

door to the bomb bay: "It was as if I was looking into the fIrebox of a furnace. Our<br />

overflow lines came down in the center between the front and rear bomb bays so I knew<br />

that some of our tanks had been hit. It was over for us. I all but gave up as that was our<br />

escape from the flight deck. I looked toward the pilot and co-pilot and they did not appear<br />

to know about this. I had to take the time to tell them before taking action. I immediately<br />

dropped out of my turret. Just as I left, I saw one of the planes off to the left with fIre<br />

coming out of the bomb bay."<br />

"I went up to the pilot, Lt. James Baynham, grabbed the side of his helmet, and<br />

yelled that we were on fIre and let's get out. The pilot hit the alarm button. I then turned<br />

and motioned to the radio operator, Sgt. James Fields, and we both grabbed our chest pack<br />

chutes. I had left the flight deck and dropped into the nose compartment to use the<br />

auxiliary lever to open the bomb doors. I opened the door in the floor and dropped into the<br />

nose wheel compartment. The auxiliary handle that opened the bomb doors was located in<br />

there just forward of the bomb bays. I grabbed the handle and the doors on the left side of<br />

the plane opened all the way but the doors on the right side only opened about six inches.<br />

We had lost all hydraulic pressure. Ifwe had been a little later we would have been trapped<br />

as the emergency handles to crank the doors was located in the center between the front and<br />

rear bomb bays."<br />

"When the doors opened the wind blew all the flames out. The fIre had been so hot<br />

that the small leatherette pads on the bomb racks were smoldering. I went into the catwalk<br />

with Sgt. Fields, right behind me. I looked back and saw the copilot, Lt. Charles Bousquet


Thejight 69<br />

coming down from the flight deck. I was standing in the bomb bay ready to jwnp. I<br />

hesitated for just a couple seconds to be sure that I had my chute clipped to my harness<br />

right. Stiddenly I saw the left side of the plane starting to disintegrate. I was hit and fell<br />

out."<br />

In the rear part of the fuselage, it became evident that the ship was in bad shape.<br />

Fire was raging in the bomb bay and communications to the flight deck were not working<br />

properly.<br />

Left waist gunner, Sgt. John Lemons moved to get the two parachutes that were<br />

laying near the bomb bay bulkhead. Sergeant Olen Byrd left his right waist gun and both<br />

hooked their chutes on.<br />

At this time, Sgt. John Knox was knocked out of the tail turret and came crawling to<br />

the waist area. He had been hit in the right knee. Despite being blind in one eye, he saw<br />

the flames in the bomb bay. Lemons hooked on Knox's chest pack chute. "I did not hear<br />

any bailout alarm. Again I gave a quick look at the fire. I knew we had to get the waist<br />

bottom hatch open, chutes on and all of us bailed out. I helped get Knox out through the<br />

camera hatch. I tried to get the other waist gunner, Byrd, to go out next by motioning him<br />

to do so. He (Byrd) refused and motioned me to go first and 1 did."<br />

Lt. Baynham had seen the ship ahead engaged in a left descending turn, burning<br />

fiercely. The first pass had set so many bombers on fire that there was virtually no one left<br />

for them to tighten up to. His ship was on fIre under the gas tanks and in the bomb bay<br />

area. He had a hard time, trying to get his back pack parachute buckled. Finally he made<br />

his way to the bomb bay. Shortly after he left, the ship blew up.<br />

King Kong went down 2 km northeast of Braunhausen.<br />

The HEITZ crew<br />

When the attack started, Bugs Bunny was leading the second element of the lead<br />

squadron. Now, 1st Lt. Raymond V. Heitz and 2nd Lt. Harold T. Vedera were flying alone<br />

in the slot. Hautman's ship, their right wingman, had left the formation and Hansen just<br />

went down in flames. The fighters seemed to materialize endlessly.<br />

A string of shells exploded in the waist and tail positions. The left waist gunner,<br />

S/Sgt. Louis Ochevsky, was badly wounded and collapsed at his post. The right waist


70 CRUhL<strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

gunner, S/Sgt. Elroy W. Palm, was hit too but less seriously. The left rudder took the brunt<br />

of the burst and somehow protected tail gunner S/Sgt. Maynard B. Watson, although he was<br />

wounded by splinters. The same fighter walked his shots from the fuselage to the right<br />

wing where the shells put the No.3 and NO.4 engines out of commission and caused<br />

extensive damage to the airfoil.<br />

Lieutenant Heitz tried desperately to keep up with the lead element but on two<br />

engines it was a no-win situation. Bugs Bunny began to fall behind and lose altitude. It<br />

was only a question of time before a Jerry fighter took advantage of the lack of rear and<br />

waist defenses.<br />

The UEBELHOER crew<br />

From the left seat of the deputy lead ship, Capt. Web L. U ebelhoer saw an Me-l09<br />

attack the lead ship low and from the rear. Flying tight on the right of the leader. he had a<br />

direct view of the waist area. The gunners were silhouetted against a red haze created by<br />

bursts of shells. Then the pilot focused his attention on the copilot's window. The<br />

Command Pilot, Major Donald McCoy, was motioning to him. But it was something that<br />

he did not understand. Slowly the lead ship began to roll to the left and went down.<br />

Uebelhoer moved his B-24 into the empty space and took over the lead.<br />

After the first attack, the radio operator, Sgt. Robert Sims, had donned his chute. He<br />

was ready to jump; who knows! "One gunner had left his gun and was preparing himself<br />

for his death. A German pilot lowered his flaps, came up right beside us, waved and peeled<br />

under our plane. The plane on our right side caught fire. I thought he was going to run into<br />

our plane but he went away to the right and blew up. I saw about three blasted out of the<br />

side but saw no chute open. They were probably stunned or already dead."<br />

The CARROW crew<br />

Lt. Raphael Carrow had seen Pearson's plane burst into flames at the very beginning<br />

of the attack and just in front of his ship. And now, it was their turn to get it. One engine<br />

was on fire and the hands of copilot 2nd Lt. Newell W. Brainard raced for the control panel<br />

to feather the prop. Patches began shaking under the impact of numerous 20- and 30-mm<br />

shells which penetrated the skin of the ship and exploded inside. Before a visual check


The fight<br />

71<br />

brought confinnation, tell-tale signs appeared on some instrwnents indicating that another<br />

engine was dying.<br />

Now~<br />

with both pilots struggling with the controls, they were having extreme<br />

difficulty controlling the aircraft. The intercom was inoperative so Lt. Carrow rang the<br />

alann bell for the crew to abandon ship. Tail gunner, S/Sgt. Herbert A. Ledin, and waist<br />

gunners, S/Sgts. Nicolas H. Dengler and Charles W. Loether, moved quickly to get their<br />

chutes on, scramble to the escape hatch, and bailout.<br />

The pilots fought the controls to give the crew time to clear the plane. However,<br />

another disaster took place when a shell set the bomb bay on fire. The radio operator stood<br />

petrified, fascinated, staring at the flames. The men on the flight deck had lost the easiest<br />

and fastest way to leave the ship. Lieutenant Brainard left his seat and went down to the<br />

nose of the ship. No further need to reset the power and adjust the trim before bailing out.<br />

There was just time for the pilot to abandon ship as she had already given up.<br />

Lieutenant Carrow had to find a way out, but he was frozen to his seat! "The simple<br />

task of unbuckling the seat belt, removing my flak vest and Mae West, became major<br />

problems. The plane was now completely out of control. All the possible means of escape<br />

raced through my mind. Each one presented an alternative death. There seemed to be no<br />

way out."<br />

"Finally, free, I arose from my seat in the falling plane. As I faced the rear, instead<br />

of the expected inferno, I saw blue sky. The plane had broken in two and the other half had<br />

taken the fire with it. I quickly climbed to the edge and shoved myself into space."<br />

Patches came down in two pieces near Bebra-Tha, at the northern edge of the village.<br />

The SMITH crew<br />

Lieutenant Donald Smith and 1st Lt. AdolfF. Lerch were leading the high-high-right<br />

squadron. For a while, their left waist gunner, Sgt. Jack Laswell, had not been getting much<br />

to shoot at, as most attacks had come from the rear. Suddenly, an FW -] 90 came up on the<br />

left, between tail and wing, so close he could see the pilot's face. He fIred until the Gennan<br />

fighter dropped from view, its windshield completely shattered.<br />

The tail gunner, S/Sgt. Eldon E. Gray, was fuing on the incoming fighters at 6<br />

o'clock low while the engineer, T/Sgt. Lonnie O. Davis, in his top turret, kept asking where


72 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

the fighters were.<br />

The DEWEY crew<br />

A 20·mm shell hit dangerously close to the tail turret gunner and threw him out of<br />

his position. Only slightly hurt, Sgt. Montanez managed to climb back in his turret.<br />

Sergeant George Jolmson, the right waist gunner, started firing at an FW -190 coming<br />

in at 5 o'clock low. The former paddlefoot fired about 200 rounds until the enemy fighter<br />

peeled off to his right, came up past the waist and blew up about 20 yards away from S/Sgt.<br />

Leslie L. Medlock's nose turret.<br />

The left waist gunner, Sgt. Walter Bartkow, saw an FW-190 coming in at 7 o'clock.<br />

He started fIring when it was approximately 300 yards out, steadily pumping rounds into<br />

the enemy aircraft which blew up like a red flash, and was witnessed by the engineer, Sgt.<br />

Charles Craig.<br />

With the intercom out, those in the rear of the plane were fighting their own battle<br />

without knowing what was happening in front of the ship.<br />

The GOLDEN crew<br />

Sergeant Jack Erickson, the radio operator, felt Ole Baldy shuddering as it took hits<br />

in the No.3 engine. From his vantage point directly below the right inboard engine, he saw<br />

a cloud of black smoke pour out into the slipstream and metal parts fly through the air as<br />

the engine came to a stop. The pilot had immediately feathered the prop. A few seconds<br />

later the plane shook like a leaf as the tail turret took a direct hit.<br />

The tail gunner, Sgt. Stewart 1. Norman, was gravely wounded. The left waist<br />

gunner, Sgt. Edward H. Feltus, and the right waist gunner, Sgt. Robert R. Bagley, removed<br />

him from his shattered turret.<br />

As the radio operator had no gun to man, he was looking out through his small<br />

window. "I saw many B-24s falling in flames. 1 saw several parachutes blossom out, but<br />

not nearly enough for the number of crewmen that had manned the planes going down.<br />

Our right wing was hit in the flap area by cannon shells and a large hole was opened up<br />

near the trailing edge of the wing. 1 could see wires and hoses dangling into the slipstream.<br />

Lieutenant William Golden and Lt. Robert Christie fought the controls to keep our aircraft


The fight<br />

73<br />

from going out of control. I turned on the liaison transmitter and quickly keyed an SOS to<br />

our home base relaying the destruction of the 445 th from the Luftwaffe onslaught. As the<br />

intercom system was knocked out, I arose from my stool and stood next to Lt. Golden. He<br />

told me to tell the crew to bailout. I nodded to him in affmnation ofhis order and turned to<br />

where T/Sgt. Earl C. Romine was operating the top turret, which was located directly above<br />

my radio position. I grabbed him by the leg and gave it a quick tug. When he looked down<br />

at me, I motioned for him to jump."<br />

"I then opened the door on the flight deck that led to the bomb bay and saw Bagley<br />

and Feltus looking toward me from the waist position. I signaled to them to abandon the<br />

aircraft They quickly hooked Stewart's parachute rip cord to a static line and dropped him<br />

out through the camera hatch. They both immediately followed him out."<br />

"Lowering myself to the catwalk below the flight deck, I grabbed the bomb bay<br />

opener handle and tried to open the doors. Apparently the hydraulic system had been<br />

knocked out for the doors didn't budge. I remembered that in case of a hydraulic failure,<br />

there was a hand crank located on the catwalk at the center of the bomb bay. 1 edged my<br />

way to the emergency crank and began to turn it. The doors started to open but soon I<br />

couldn't move them any more. The opening on each side of the bomb bay was only about<br />

two feet wide."<br />

"No sooner had I opened the doors when Sgt. Romine dove through the opening. He<br />

was followed a few seconds later by Lt. Christie, the copilot. I then crawled along the<br />

catwalk to the nose of the plane. I opened the doors to the nose turret and helped 2nd Lt.<br />

Theodore C. Boecher, the bombardier, to climb out. 1 told both him and 2nd Lt. Edmund F.<br />

Boomhower to bailout through the nose wheel hatch."<br />

'"I then quickly crawled back to the flight deck. Lt. Golden was still at the controls.<br />

I climbed up beside him and told him that everyone else had jumped. He told me to go and<br />

I gave him a salute and turned toward the half-opened bomb bay. In the brief seconds it<br />

took me to reach the open bomb bay, the fact that I had not had my parachute inspected or<br />

repacked since my first mission flashed through my mind. As I prepared to jump, I said a<br />

little prayer that the chute would function properly. I then dove through the opening head<br />

first."<br />

Ole Baldy went down 2.5 km north east of Braunhausen, 2 kilometers south of


74 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Comberg.<br />

The FRENCH crew<br />

In his tail turret, Sgt. Herbert Schwartz faced another FW-190. "I depressed both<br />

triggers and after firing about 20 rOlmds, my left gun had a stoppage and immediately<br />

following this, my right gun jammed. I pulled both charging handles and my left gun<br />

cleared. I was so damn excited I didn't know what to do. I had contemplated on<br />

evacuating the turret and jumping out of the camera hatch. My right gun had failed to<br />

chamber the round and a shell was stuck half way into the chamber with such force that it<br />

was impossible to charge out."<br />

"Our radio man said that our bomb bays looked like a miniature Niagara Falls. We<br />

were really crippled now, our No. 1 engine was feathered. Our plane began to rock<br />

terrifically up and down all due to our right rudder being partly shot away and the other half<br />

hanging on only by the cable. It was shaking my tail turret so badly that I had to get out of<br />

the turret and get out damn quick before it shook me to pieces."<br />

"This was the first time that I got hysterical and screamed over the intercom. I<br />

thought we were in a spin and I had had no warning to jump. My copilot broke in and said<br />

that everything was as much under control as possible and 1 felt a little relieved. In all the<br />

excitement, my oxygen mask had pulled away from my face as I was evacuating the turret.<br />

I was getting no oxygen and felt quite weak but I discovered my difficulty in time."<br />

"Lt. French told the copilot, 1st Lt. Robert D. Cochran, to feather No. 2 engine to<br />

keep the rudder still as the slipstream was causing it to waver so much."<br />

"I saw two more FW-190s coming in. It would have taken very little persuasion for<br />

me to jump out of the damn plane but I had to consider my crew. The FWs came in very<br />

fast and when I should have been firing at the enemy, I was fixing my flak suit beneath my<br />

knees. I popped up into the turret, my legs still standing as firm as possible on the bottom<br />

of the fuselage behind the turret and started fIring. They were coming directly in at 6<br />

0'clock level. I had my gun trained on the one ship that was in the closest to us and he<br />

fmally· peeled away and the second ship continued his attack on our tail. My gun was<br />

beginning to heat up as I had made my bursts too long. I had to fife though and had little<br />

time to worry about the damn gun. This FW came in very close and I sprayed him with


Thejight<br />

75<br />

bullets and then he suddenly exploded. His ship flew into a thousand pieces. It was a<br />

beautiful sight to me. This was my second kill."<br />

"I again tried to clear my right gun as 1 knew that the left gun would not operate too<br />

much longer. 1 saw another 190 heading in around 800 yards away and by this time, I was<br />

beat and sure didn't feel like beating off another attack Most of the enemy pursuit was<br />

disappearing and I could only see one bomber behind us. I let loose a few short bursts<br />

hoping he would break away but he continued his attack I kept my trigger fmger depressed<br />

and when he was about 200 yards away, his engine caught fire and he was really in trouble.<br />

His plane started into a dive for the ground."<br />

The SWOFFORD crew<br />

Lieutenant Henry Dobek, navigator of the Sweetest Rose Of Texas, felt more like a<br />

spectator than a participant. He was able to watch the whole attack through his small side<br />

window. It seemed that there were hundreds of parachutes and burning B-24s in the sky.<br />

He could see Gennan fighters flying through the fonnation with flashes of fife from their<br />

cannons. A grim observation - he saw more B-24s go down than enemy fighters.<br />

The Plexiglas of the windshield was shattered from the enemy fire. Fortunately, Lt.<br />

Paul Swofford and copilot 1st Lt. Ward A. Smith, suffered only superficial face wounds.<br />

From his top turret, engineer T/Sgt. Philip Vosburgh Jr. saw No.3 engine and propeller<br />

both hit by a shell. One piece of shrapnel went through the aluminum skin, wounding the<br />

radio operator, T/Sgt. Eugene F. Thum, in the arm. Other splinters had punctured some<br />

lines in the bomb bay and hydraulic fluid was spreading allover the place.<br />

The ISOM crew<br />

First Lieutenants Cecil 1. Isom and Lonnie Justice had maintained Patty Girl in the<br />

lead ofthe low-left squadron.<br />

Left waist gunner, S/Sgt. Paul M. Dickerson, had seen FW-190s pouring in, in waves<br />

of ten and fifteen. "Everywhere B-24s, Me-l09s and FW-190s were falling. Some were<br />

blazing, some were smoking, and some were blown to bits. The air was full of parachutes.<br />

A Gennan with a black parachute drifted by our right waist window. The right waist<br />

gunner, S/Sgt. William E. Wagner, took a bead on him, then looked at me. I said 'No,' and


76 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

he left him to drift by. An Me-l09 drifted up to our left wing. I could see the pilot plainly;<br />

he was that close. One burst and I had him."<br />

The pilot called Sgt. Bames to take a screwdriver back to the tail gunner as one of<br />

his gun had jammed. "The first thing I saw was a Me-l09 just sitting on our tail with that<br />

20-mm canon blazing away. As I handed Phillips the screw driver, he looked at me - his<br />

eyes were blood red. Back to the waist, a plane on our right wing blew to pieces and two of<br />

their crew opened chutes that caught fife and down and down they went. A German pilot<br />

bailed out just 20 feet away. He still had his oxygen mask on. We looked at each other, his<br />

eyes were large as saucers when he looked at me."<br />

The CHILTON crew<br />

With the 44S th BG formation close to annihilation, the German fighters could<br />

concentrate more fighters on the surviving B-24s. The Germans pressed home their attacks<br />

vigorously on the lead ship. The hydraulic reservoir in the bomb bay erupted in flames,<br />

right beneath the fuel pumps. It was obvious to Sgt. Glen McCormick they were not going<br />

to get the fire out. Top turret gunner, S/Sgt. Robert E. Shay, fell out of his turret, mortally<br />

wounded. In the nose, pilotage navigator, 2nd Lt. Carlton V. Hudson, and bombardier, Lt.<br />

Parker Trefethen, opened the nose-wheel doors and bailed out.<br />

In the fuselage, Sgt. McCormick watched the exodus as the other men went out, one<br />

by one. Engineer T/Sgt. Howard L. Sturdy, radio operator T/Sgt. William 1. Sloane, waist<br />

gunner S/Sgt. Merle R. Briggs, tail gunner S/Sgt. Donald W. Mills and McCormick<br />

parachuted safely from the burning ship.<br />

Lieutenant Cloys Johnson, the radar navigator, was down attempting to open the<br />

bomb bay doors so that those on the flight deck could bailout. Before he succeeded, the<br />

lead ship exploded, throwing him out, badly burned by the flash of liquid fife.<br />

The mighty pathfmder had broken in two. Pilot Capt. John Chilton, Command Pilot<br />

Maj. Donald McCoy, copilot 2Lt. Harold E. Sutherland, and dead reckoning navigator 1st<br />

Lt. Raymond E. Ische rode the tailless aircraft to their death.<br />

The MINER crew<br />

Sergeant Mertis Thornton was frring back at the FW-190s streaming past when a


The fight<br />

77<br />

shell hit the top turret and exploded in front of his face. He dropped out of the turret and<br />

fell in front of navigator Lt. Frank Bertram. "When I saw the top turret gunner, I believed<br />

he was dead, I was just sick because his face was solid frozen blood. I stepped over<br />

Thornton's dead body and I went to open the bomb bay doors. I knew we had to bailout;<br />

the ship was yawing and gasoline was allover the bomb bay. The bomb bay doors<br />

remained stuck I thought we were trapped in the ship. I stepped back over the poor<br />

engineer and went up to the nose. "<br />

"Second Lieutenant Charles W. Jackson was in the nose turret firing like a crazy on<br />

everything going by. I called up there: 'Let's go see if the nose wheels doors would open.'<br />

They were frozen shut. I kicked the doors which fmally popped open. I was sitting there<br />

with my dangling feet and, boy, I didn't want to fallout. I had better get back in the ship<br />

just in case. I tried to get back up and I felt some guys on my shoulders. I turned around<br />

and there was a bunch of guys lined up, pointing: 'go out'. Oh no, what I am gonna do, this<br />

is ridiculous and out I went."<br />

While Bertram was bailing out through the nose wheel hatch, Sgt. Thornton regained<br />

consciousness. He glanced to his pilot, and Miner gave him a hand signal: "Go out." He<br />

snapped his chest pack on and made his way to the nose compartment. He took his turn in<br />

the waiting line and out he went, alive.<br />

In the rear, the left waist gunner, Sgt. Lawrence Bowers, was too busy ftring. Then<br />

he realized how devastating the attack had been with planes blowing up with no parachutes.<br />

He realized they had lost communication with the front of the plane; the intercom was out.<br />

But he felt that the plane was going down and the people in the rear made the decision<br />

themselves.<br />

The unfortunate S/Sgt. Joseph H. Gilfoil, had one of his legs nearly severed by a 20­<br />

nun shell Bowers and the right waist gunner, S/Sgt. Alvis O. Kitchens, assisted the radio<br />

operator. They helped him with his parachute, tied a static line to the ripcord, and eased<br />

him towards the open camera hatch. One parachute had been hit by a shell and was<br />

completely ruined. The tail gunner, Sgt. Arthur Lamberson, brought a spare chute. The<br />

four from the rear, including the badly wounded Gilfoil, now left the dying Liberator.<br />

The pilots were now ftghting against two engines on ftre. Huge flames erupting from<br />

No.2 and NO.3 engines sandwiched the fuselage between two bright but deadly ribbons. A


78 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

couple of thousand feet above his burning ship, Lt. Miner saw an element of three planes<br />

heading west, with the No.2 plane trailing vapor or smoke from its No.4 engine. "Our No.<br />

I and NO.3 engines were out, windmilling, and would not feather, there was a fire on each<br />

wing, the intercom was out. An FW-190 came over our left wing, upside down, close<br />

enough for me to clearly see the pilot. He split essed out just in front of us with our<br />

gunners firing at him all the way. I thought: 'It's crazy. Here we are trying to kill one<br />

another while under different circumstances we'd probably be friends. '"<br />

"The lead squadron had been largely destroyed as I initially looked down at them<br />

with B-24s burning, breaking up, blowing up, going down. I had sounded the bailout<br />

signal hoping that those in the waist would get the message and my copilot, 1st Lt. Virgil<br />

Chima and I seemed to be alone in the plane. He checked with me to see if it was OK for<br />

him to bailout and I said 'Yes' and he left."<br />

"I kept flying west to give anyone that hadn't gotten out more time and to get as far<br />

as possible less distance to walk. I saw three fighters coming down toward me from 9<br />

o'clock not much above my altitude and was seriously concerned until I identified them as<br />

P-51s. I checked the altitude about then, found that I was down to about 10,000 feet and,<br />

with the wing fires still burning, I decided that it was time to get out, thinking that by now I<br />

was alone in the plane, although I wasn't sure, an uncomfortable feeling."<br />

"I glanced back at the bomb bay doors through which I had expected to leave and<br />

found them to be closed. I assumed they couldn't be opened because of battle damage.<br />

That means that I would have to get out the nose wheel doors and I hoped they were open."<br />

As soon as I left my seat, released the control column, whipped off the flak suit,<br />

oxygen mask, helmet, goggles, earphones and headed toward the bomb bay, the nose started<br />

straight up. I dropped into the tunnel under the flight deck and made tracks up to the nose<br />

wheel doors which were open. I grabbed the edge of the opening as the plane fell off in a<br />

spin, and pulled myself out."<br />

The lead ship of the high-right squadron crashed at Grebenau, at the northern border<br />

of the town towards Wallersdorf.<br />

The BRULAND crew<br />

Copilot Lt. Peter Belitsos: "The No.3 engine fire would not go out. I went back to


The fight<br />

79<br />

the fuel transfer control panel with the engineer, S/Sgt. Stephen J. Gray, and went through<br />

the procedure again and again but nothing worked. We flew for quite a while losing<br />

altitude and were now fully expecting that the ship would blow up when Palmer hit the<br />

bell."<br />

Lieutenant Palmer Bruland found that the autopilot was not working. He tried to<br />

trim the plane but when he let go of the controls the ship nosed up before he could get to<br />

the bomb bay and jump. After going back and leveling off a few times, he fmally made it<br />

out.<br />

The nine man crew parachuted safely from 922-Q which went down 3 kilometers<br />

southeast of Giessen.<br />

The MERCER crew<br />

180m's left wingman, Lt. Jackson Mercer had tightened up more on their element<br />

leader. On their right, a B-24 with its No.3 tank on fIre, blew up and three of the men got<br />

out of the waist. The others didn't have a chance. They saw engines torn away from their<br />

mounts on one plane. At least three of the boys pulled their chutes too quickly, the silk<br />

caught frre and they plummeted to earth.<br />

The enemy also had a rough time of it. From his window, copilot, Lt. Pouliot, saw<br />

an FW -190 going down in flames. "A German plane in a death spin crashed into another<br />

enemy fIghter and they went down together. Meanwhile our nose gunner, S/Sgt. Theodore<br />

E. Hoiten, was frantically busy keeping the fIghters off Isom's tail. His plane was slightly<br />

higher than ours and a little to the right. FW-190s were coming up from beneath and trying<br />

to get him from the belly. When one of them stalled in front of us, I saw Ted's guns<br />

blazing and the turret shaking from the long burst that he gave the Nazi who hung there<br />

trying to pump Isom's ship with 20-mm shells. Then the fIghter caught on fIre, and went<br />

down to disappear in the clouds."<br />

"Another fIghter came up under the tail of Isom's ship but couldn't get him so he<br />

swung around hard to his left and came in at us at 2 0' clock, with all his guns blazing. It<br />

looked as though the leading edge of his wing was on frre. I thought that we had it, but our<br />

engineer, T/Sgt. Kenneth Kribs, turned his top turret as fast as he could and took on the<br />

attacking plane. Again our plane shook from a long burst. The Nazi plane kept on coming


80 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

closer and Kribs still kept shooting; then suddenly there was nothing in front of us but<br />

debris."<br />

"Another attack came in from the left side and I could feel several hits. Lt. Mercer<br />

switched on the autopilot and we found we could still fly. Then we waited for another<br />

attack."<br />

Under the constant assaults of more than 100 German fighters, the formation of<br />

thirty-five B-24s in five minutes was down to 12 ships. The stragglers, unable to keep up<br />

any longer with the few remaining aircraft, were in such bad shape that, even without the<br />

enemy, their future seemed short. All on board knew they could not last any longer nor<br />

sustain more damage. The Germans were coming back for the kill. Gunners were reporting<br />

fighters climbing to knock off the survivors. Others were diving from twelve o'clock. No<br />

doubt the 445 th Group would "buy the farm."<br />

Thank God, they were P-51s. They ripped through the incoming FW-190s. The<br />

Jerries got it too.<br />

The FRENCH crew<br />

Tail gunner, Sgt Schwartz, had only 40 rounds of ammunition left in one gun while<br />

the other one remained jammed. "Up to this time, I could see only one P-38 around us. I<br />

noticed four more FW-190s coming in at us but still quite a distance out. I immediately<br />

told my copilot If it hadn't been for the sound of the engines, everyone on the ship would<br />

have heard me praying for help from the big boy upstairs. Out of nowhere came two more<br />

P-38s. They started to dive for the four intercepting FW-190s and the last I saw of these<br />

planes, they were diving through the clouds."<br />

Unfortunately it was too late for the group. Too late for the twenty-two planes that<br />

had ended up as a twisted smear of metal, some 23,000 feet below; the last resting place of<br />

mangled and burned bodies. Too late for the numerous airmen who were floating in their<br />

chutes, alive but falling down to unknown developments inside the Third Reich.


The modem knight <br />

A waist gunner ready to repel the enemy. <br />

Look at his M-3 flak helmet and A-14 oxygen mask, <br />

his full M-l flak vest (front and rear parts) and M-4 apron.


.....- • - Formation heading when under attacks<br />

:.<br />

•••................ _•••.••••....•..••....•••••••..•.....................................••••.•••...............................•<br />

·<br />

.<br />

. <br />

~ ~~~ ~<br />

: Hessisch Lichtenau Eschwege :<br />

~ [Fromm J : ·<br />

:. <br />

Eisenach ·<br />

CI'J.:<br />

Q.I'<br />

.-. e~<br />

"!t': @:hilton-~<br />

M :<br />

·<br />

.<br />

•<br />

~ ."",..<br />

.L-.<br />

~<br />

Bad Hersfeld<br />

.~.<br />

Bad Salzun~en<br />

· . ·<br />

~ •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• _•••••••••••••••••••••• 1<br />

0( )0<br />

32 miles<br />

· <br />

Crash site<br />

Crash sites <br />

Each ship receives its proper squadron identification <br />

Notice how close the ships fell close from each others, except Jones and Fromm <br />

who both set the autopilot before leaving their planes


The Bail Out<br />

81<br />

Chapter 4<br />

THE BAILOUT <br />

(In this chapter, the information is furnished by individual with his crew indicated and in<br />

chronological order so the same person may appear several times because of the timing of<br />

the happenings.)<br />

Copilot Nelson Dimick (PEARSON crew)<br />

"When I pulled the ripcord, I received a severe jolt that tore the heavy flying boots<br />

from my feet. The carnage around me was unbelievable; aircraft blowing up, parts of<br />

aircraft filled the air, machines on fire. All of a sudden it was deathly silent. I had opened<br />

the chute at high altitude; it would take a long time to descend. Soon after I passed out. I<br />

came to just as I broke through the cloud cover at some 5-8,000 feet altitude.<br />

"I had left the State of Vermont hardly 18 months earlier and here I was alone,<br />

floating down in a parachute in the middle of Germany. 1 thought briefly of my birthday<br />

party and the date 1 would miss that evening and who the hell would steal my booze. 1 was<br />

still some 4,000 feet from the ground when 1 saw an aircraft coming at me - an Me-l09.<br />

After all 1 had been through that bastard was going to kill me in my chute. He passed me,<br />

turned, and came back. He flew by me very close and very slowly and saluted. I gave him<br />

one back and felt relieved. 1 was still alive.<br />

"But the hard reality came back again. 1 had only summer socks and my very thin,<br />

felt, heated booties on my feet. My landing was rough. Thanks a heap, at least the damn<br />

chute had opened, so the boys from the equipment shop had something going in their favor.<br />

"My right waist gunner, Harry Tachovsky, landed about 50 feet from me. I wanted<br />

to run for the nearby woods but Harry had an injured leg. We met a French farm worker in<br />

the field. He was part of a forced labor group imported from France. Shortly 1 saw a<br />

farmer and a very young boy approaching from the direction of farm buildings. The farmer<br />

was very old, small, stoop-shouldered and carned a very ancient double-barreled shotgun.<br />

He was probably more afraid of us than we of him, he was shaking rather badly. Both<br />

Harry and I were afraid he would accidentally fire the shotgun - with his hand shaking so<br />

badly.


82 CRUbL<strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

"Later, a Gennan officer on a horse came galloping up. Things were getting<br />

crowded. From another direction came a three-wheeled motorcycle with sidecar and three<br />

young kids in some kind of brown unifonn bouncing around, hanging on for dear life while<br />

riding over the rough field. The officer searched us for guns but in vain. Harry, the other<br />

waist gunner, Dwight, and I were taken to a basement in a jail in Eisenach, only a short<br />

distance east of where Harry and I landed."<br />

Pilot Ralph Pearson (PEARSON crew)<br />

"When my chute opened, it jerked me so hard that my beautiful fleece-lined flight<br />

boots came off. As I floated down in my stocking feet I thought, 'Nuts, some Gennan kid<br />

is going to be wearing those comfortable boots. '<br />

"On the way down, the fighters who had shot us down made a couple of turns<br />

around my parachute. I tried to play dead because we had heard that sometimes pilots had<br />

been machine-gunned after parachuting out.<br />

"When I landed, there were three or four soldiers waiting for me. As a matter of<br />

fact, the soldiers looked friendlier than the farmers with their pitchforks who were standing<br />

around. One of the soldiers said something and it sounded a little like the Swedish word 1<br />

had learned as a kid which meant 'smarting or burning.'<br />

"1 said'Ja' because my face felt like it was burning up.<br />

"The Wehnnacht soldiers put me in a motorcycle sidecar and drove me to a<br />

Luftwaffe hospital nearby. It was obvious that their pilots got fIrst-class treatment. The<br />

hospital was clean and well-equipped. They put me into some kind of holding area."<br />

Copilot Gerald Kathol (POTTS crew)<br />

"I had opened my chute too early with only one strap buckled. I landed in a field<br />

where young ladies were putting hay in piles. I was unable to walk but not in great pain. I<br />

buried a few personal items and gave my chute to one of the 'pretty girls. '<br />

"Shortly, an old man came to the spot on the side of the slope with a young lady in<br />

his presence. He said: 'Ich shiess dich.' He had a relic of a handgun but made no further<br />

advances and his lady partner told him to put the gun away. Soon after, a soldier in<br />

unifonn appeared and told the little old man to haul me into town."


The Bail Out<br />

83<br />

Pilot Raphael Carrow (CARROW crew)<br />

"I 'counted to 10 and pulled the ripcord. I looked up, but saw nothing. I was falling<br />

through a cloud. The jerk I felt soon after I pulled the cord was the only assurance the<br />

parachute had opened. Soon I saw the ground rushing towards me. I must have gotten out<br />

of the plane not a moment too soon. In the comparatively short interval before hitting the<br />

ground, I could see only that I was landing in a field.<br />

"I landed within a fence in a prison labor camp and was 'greeted' by a Wehnnacht<br />

soldier."<br />

Radio operator Jack Erickson (GOLDEN crew)<br />

"As soon as I hit the slipstream, my helmet and oxygen mask were ripped from my<br />

head. I had neglected to buckle the chinstrap. I resisted the urge to pull the ripcord at this<br />

altitude and took a free-fall which seemed like an eternity to me. As I fell, I saw a chute far<br />

below me. I was rapidly catching up to it The ground now seemed to rush up and I could<br />

distinguish farmhouses, fields, and trees below. At approximately 2,000 feet, I pulled the<br />

rip cord. About two seconds later, I felt a sharp, strong jolt as the canopy blossomed and<br />

bit the air. It was vel)' reassuring to look up and see the large white expanse above me.<br />

"The sudden deceleration caused my right foot flying boot to keep on going. I<br />

stuffed the rip cord into the rear pocket of my flight suit By God, I was going to remember<br />

what I did with mine. I watched the chute below me descend and land in an open area<br />

between two wooded areas. Approaching the ground, my chute drifted me right over the<br />

heads of a group of farm workers. I was barely 100 feet above them but not one of them<br />

looked up or saw me. My chute carned me over a clump of woods where I descended into<br />

the trees. There my chute snagged on the top of a pine and the canopy collapsed. I was left<br />

dangling about 20 feet above the ground.<br />

"Grabbing the shroud lines with my right hand, I tried to lift my weight off my<br />

harness so that I could unsnap the leg harness straps with my left hand. Without warning,<br />

the limb that had snagged the chute suddenly let go and I fell to the ground, chute and all. I<br />

landed so heavily on my feet that my knees were jammed under my chin. I apparently<br />

passed out for a few moments and when I came to I had a terrific pain in my lower back.


84 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

When I stood up the pain was more acute and it was difficult to walk. I got down on my<br />

hands and knees and gathered up my chute and buried it beneath the pine needles and<br />

leaves that I gathered from around me. I then crawled to the edge of the woods where I<br />

could see the clearing and saw the other parachutist walking across the field.<br />

"I picked up a dead tree limb that was lying on the ground and using it as a crutch I<br />

stood up and yelled at him. I hobbled out of the woods toward him and it was not until I<br />

had exposed my position that I saw a uniformed man holding a shotgun some yards behind<br />

the other airman. It was too late for me to change direction as the armed man had seen me.<br />

He waved his arm motioning me to continue over to his location. As I approached I was<br />

very surprised to see our copilot, Bob Christie. I now took a closer look at our captor.<br />

"He was wearing a futmy-shaped hat that was curved to fit the rear ofhis head like a<br />

skullcap and it had a circular crown in the front. The front of the hat was embellished with<br />

a large silver-like sunburst badge. He wore a greenish gray military-like tunic over riding<br />

breeches and polished knee-high boots. He was an elderly man, probably in his sixties.<br />

"He appeared to be very nervous and his shotgun shook as he covered Christie and<br />

me. With one hand he gave us a pat search but could not fmd any weapons. He did pull<br />

the ripcord from my pocket and by the expression on his face I could tell he was puzzled as<br />

to what it was. Perhaps he thought it was some kind of a secret weapon. In a somewhat<br />

shaken voice he said to us: 'For you der var is uber.'<br />

"As it turned out, he was the local policeman; in fact, he was the only one in the<br />

area. He motioned to me to put down the limb I had been using for a crutch and for me to<br />

sit down on the ground. He then took Christie into the woods where I had landed to<br />

retrieve my parachute. They soon returned with it. Apparently, I had not hidden it as well<br />

as I thought I had. He motioned for Christie to carry me piggyback while he gathered up<br />

both chutes that he half carried and half dragged and we started off for the local village<br />

about a quarter of a mile away.<br />

"Upon arrival in the tiny village, we were taken directly to the local jail which<br />

consisted of one small cell with a barred door and window. The cell contained two straw<br />

ticks on wooden frames. The jailer was a jovial, robust woman about 40 years old. She<br />

and the policeman quickly searched us and confiscated all of our belongings. In my case it<br />

included my GI issued wristwatch, a pack ofCamel cigarettes, and my cigarette lighter.<br />

ii


The Bail Out<br />

85<br />

"The jailer was quite friendly and after the policeman departed, I coaxed her into<br />

giving me back two of my Camels that they had confiscated. Christie and I sat down for a<br />

much~needed smoke, the first since before take-off that morning. As the longest day in my<br />

life came to a close and darkness settled in, the jailer brought each of us a bowl of very thin<br />

barley soup. After which we settled down on the straw ticks to try to get some sleep,<br />

wondering what tomorrow would bring."<br />

Bombardier Malcolm MacGregor (SOLLIEN crew)<br />

"As soon as I was clear of the plane, I popped my parachute. We had been told to<br />

delay our fall until we were close to the ground, but there were only clouds below so I was<br />

nervous about waiting. I had been without oxygen for a few minutes. I had not bothered to<br />

get a walk-around oxygen bottle.<br />

"In what seemed like a few seconds, the air battle had gone and I was left alone in<br />

the sky. A feeling of loneliness overwhelmed me. I was by myself descending in a survival<br />

parachute. I was in the middle of Germany, I could not speak the language and I was the<br />

'enemy.' I could not see any of the ground - it was completely blocked by the clouds.<br />

When I was about half way down, I saw two fighter planes coming toward me. I thought<br />

they were German fighters but then they pulled around me and I could see they were ours ­<br />

P-51s. After the fighters waggled their wings at me and left, I was all alone again.<br />

"It seemed like a long time before I broke through the clouds. I think I must have<br />

taken about 15 minutes to descend in the parachute. I saw that I was going to land in a<br />

plowed field. I looked up at my chute and before I could look back down, I hit the ground.<br />

My ankle was badly injured and I thought it might be broken. However, I was alive. I had<br />

some shrapnel in my legs and a very badly-sprained right ankle. The good news was that I<br />

was alive and had no serious injuries.<br />

"Before I hit the ground I had seen a small car driving on a road beside the plowed<br />

field. After I landed, I was lying on the ground. I lifted myself on one elbow and saw two<br />

German soldiers standing by the parked car. One of them waved a small pistol at me and I<br />

waved back. I was trying to show that I was unarmed. The soldiers realized it so they<br />

walked the 200 feet or so to where I was lying, helped me up and out of my parachute. I<br />

had tied shoes to my parachute by the laces but when the chute opened the laces, broke so I


86 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

had no shoes and had to walk in my heated flying slippers. I wore only a heated flying suit.<br />

long underwear. aT-shirt. a regular shirt, a sweater, socks and heated flying slippers.<br />

"It was very painful for me to walk but with help from the soldiers I was able to<br />

walk to the car. They put me in the back seat of their two-door car, climbed in the front<br />

seat and drove me to an open field where they were assembling the prisoners. I remember<br />

one of the soldiers saying, 'for you the war is over' and so it was. There must have been<br />

about 100 of us in the field. I lit a cigarette and all of a sudden we could hear an airplane<br />

flying low and firing guns. I was to fmd out later that some of the German fighter planes<br />

were strafing the prisoners on the ground. My pilot said he was strafed but fortunately he<br />

was missed. The German guards went into the woods and we were left alone in the middle<br />

of the field. Fortunately, no planes strafed us. We were alive, some of us wounded and in<br />

our way to becoming 'Kriegies. '"<br />

Top turret gunner Ammi Miller (SOLLIEN crew)<br />

"I had made a free-fall until I entered the clouds below me. I came down in a<br />

forested area, injuring my left ankle on impact in a tree. Some civilians arrested me and I<br />

was led to a compound housing political prisoners."<br />

Radio operator Charles Graham (SOLLIEN crew)<br />

"I remembered the advice: 'Donlt release your chute until you see that there is no<br />

debris or danger of the chute being caught on fire from planes.' I watched and saw that all<br />

was clear, then I released my chute. I landed in a chefI)' tree. A peasant and his wife<br />

helped me out of the chute and took me to their home. Shortly thereafter, the Volksturm<br />

arrived and said for me the war was over. n<br />

During the first interrogation, Graham met his pilot, Carl Sollien, who was wearing<br />

the cap of James Bridgeo, the left waist gunner. Sollien told him he had been forced by the<br />

Germans to pick up dead airmen. He went through their plane, which had practically landed<br />

itself. He found that three men were still in the rear portion of the plane. Two had no head<br />

and one had no face. The nose turret navigator, John Dent, was still in the nose. The<br />

copilot, William Koenig, was lying about 100 feet from the plane.


The BailOut<br />

87<br />

Left waist gunner Warren Pendleton (JONES crew)<br />

"I did a free-fall until 1 was very close to the ground. 1 was still swinging from the<br />

chute opening when I hit the ground, slamming to my back in freshly-cut cabbage stalks. I<br />

had been hit numerous times by shrapnel, hit in the thigh by a bullet, and my face and<br />

hands were burnt. Some civilians picked me up in the field."<br />

Right waist gunner Willis Meier (JONES crew)<br />

"I came to at 2500 ft, rolled over and opened my chute. My shoes were shot off and<br />

three panels of the chute tore. I managed to steer the chute into a garden plot surrounded<br />

by trees. I landed very hard all - shot up and with no shoes on. My feet and lower legs<br />

were all black and blue up to the knees. I was hit in lower right leg, upper right leg and in<br />

the groin through the hipbone and out the butt left side, hands burned.<br />

"Civilians and a Luftwaffe soldier arrested me. An old man was going to kill me<br />

with a knife so I drew my .45 caliber pistol and backed him off. The soldiers said to give it<br />

to them so the crowd could see I was their prisoner. 1 did that. The old women spit on me.<br />

The two soldiers showed up with a truck and took me to a German hospital."<br />

Nose turret gunner Milton Lee (JONES crew)<br />

"Upon entering the cloud cover, the thought went through my mind: 'What if this is<br />

a fog?' Seconds later, as I couldn't wait any longer, I pulled the ripcord. The chute then<br />

opened with such an impact and with such force, it jerked me so hard that I passed out.<br />

"When I came too, I was below the clouds, but still quite high. From then on things<br />

began to go against me. As I got closer to the ground I was able to make out the German<br />

countryside with its ever-changing terrain. I passed over the hills and wooden areas and a<br />

river. Upon closer observation, I saw a small cemetery with all sizes of head stones. It<br />

would be just my bad luck, since things were going so good for me already, to land and<br />

smack into one of them, which would be an ironic twist of fate. Fortunately, my luck was<br />

good and the wind pushed me beyond the cemetery.<br />

"As I was descending, I saw a man with a pitchfork running down a small country<br />

road toward me, anticipating where I would land. He was still quite a distance away from<br />

me, maybe two city blocks. I was trying to control my landing by pulling on the cords, but


88 CRUEIJ<strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

it didn't seem to help too much. Then I got prepared to touch down and get my feet ready,<br />

so as to start to run, as to break the fall. But because of such a fast descent, I was unable to<br />

do any of the things that I planned to do in trying to guide my direction and I crumpled to<br />

the ground.<br />

"There was such a pain in my right hip, I thought it must have been broken. I tried<br />

to get up, as the farmer was almost on me. I fell back just as he lunged at me with his<br />

pitchfork I frantically twisted and rolled to my side as fast as I could to avoid its spears<br />

and he plunged the tongs into the ground with such force he broke the handle. Angrily, he<br />

took the splintered handle and stabbed it into my back Thanks to my heavy-heated suit<br />

that I was wearing, it stopped most of the shmp wooden ends from tearing into my flesh.<br />

"All of the time that this was taking place, the townspeople who had watched me<br />

and my chute come down, were coming at me armed with sticks and clubs. I even saw<br />

what seemed to be a 'Burgermeister' with a rifle. But, as they got closer they started to<br />

become somewhat more hesitant to take any action against me. I thought they might<br />

possibly were waiting for the 'Burgermeister' to do something. Upon yelling and<br />

screaming, he raised his rifle - which apparently had no ammo - raised it to my head and<br />

then he hit me across ~my shoulders, breaking it in two. It seemed that it was a prized<br />

possession, for then he got mad and went kind of crazy, which seemed to be a trait of some<br />

of the people from that region.<br />

"The townspeople took up on it. They began to beat me with everything they had.<br />

They split my head open and the blood seemed to bring out their animalistic nature, which<br />

resulted in even more punishment. I heard the sound of gunfrre very close and I was<br />

thinking that someone had a gun and this would be the end of my days in this God-forsaken<br />

country.<br />

"But then for some unknown reason the beating stopped and the people began to<br />

move away from me. Then a German soldier appeared with an automatic rifle and was<br />

waving it at the crowd. It was his gun that I heard. He apparently instructed someone to<br />

help me in the sidecar seat of his motorcycle, all the time letting them know he meant<br />

business. We left, still hearing the yells and cursing and rock throwing. We arrived at a<br />

town and I was put in a small holding cell. The townspeople arrived and they still wanted<br />

more of me, but the soldiers wouldn't let them at me.


The Bail Out<br />

89<br />

"About 40 minutes later, guards came in an open-air car and picked me up and<br />

delivered me to an army garrison of some type and put me in a holding room to await<br />

further developments. An officer came into the room. Everyone stood at attention and<br />

hieled Hitler. Eventually, I, along with other prisoners, was put into some sort of a cell,<br />

which had a four-inch by 12-inch hole in the floor in which to relieve ourselves. There was<br />

also a water basin. However, there were no beds and the floor was concrete and cold.<br />

And, of course, because of my hip injury, cold floor did me no good."<br />

Engineerffop turret gunner Howard Boldt (BAYNHAM crew)<br />

"I knew that I had been hit pretty bad and had been off oxygen for a number of<br />

minutes and, fearing I would pass out without pulling the rip cord, 1 opened my chute as<br />

soon as 1 cleared the plane. 1 looked down; my left boot was gone and 1 was bleeding very<br />

badly. 1 looked at my right foot; blood had filled the boot and was dripping rapidly over<br />

the side. I felt that there was no way that I was going to make it. Everything turned white<br />

and I could not distinguish anything. A fighter circled me but I could not see if it was one<br />

of theirs or ours. If it was a German plane, I was not sure if they would shoot or not. So I<br />

hung real limp as if I was dead. Then I passed out completely.<br />

"Later I regained consciousness but 1 could not distinguish anything but colors. I<br />

saw brown and assumed they were fields, and green which was forest. Then 1 saw green<br />

beneath me, and about the time that I figured I was over a forest, I was in it. My chute<br />

draped over the top of a large evergreen. I was hanging possibly fifteen feet or more from<br />

the ground. 1 ended up right next to the trunk but between limbs. The branches were close<br />

together. 1 tried to get out of my harness but 1 could not use my legs to relieve the tension<br />

on my chute snaps. 1 gave up and figured that if the Germans wanted me, they would have<br />

to get me down. My legs had quit bleeding.<br />

"I must have hung there for about forty-five minutes. No one came so I decided that<br />

I would have to try again. 1 remembered that 1 had a pocketknife along with a few<br />

cigarettes and a lighter in my jacket pocket. 1 cut through my shroud lines, took off my<br />

harness, and lowered myself to a sitting position on the limb below. I was very fortunate<br />

that the limbs were close together. 1 lowered myself to a sitting position all the way down.<br />

The lowest limb was about five feet from the ground and, as I was six-feet-two-inches, I


90 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

was again lucky. As 1 hung from the lowest limb 1 realized that I was at a point of no<br />

return. 1 could not get down as 1 could not use my legs and I could not go up. 1 finally<br />

pulled myself up a bit and started swinging my body and legs back and forth. When my<br />

legs got in front ofme, 1 let go and fell on my back.<br />

"The ground was covered with the needles from the tree but 1 still hit hard and this<br />

started my legs to bleed again. 1 realized then that 1had left my emergency kit, which was<br />

on my harness, up in the tree. My wife had knitted me a wool scarf and 1 tried to use that<br />

for a tourniquet but it kept stretching and would not work 1 passed out for several hours at<br />

a time. Coming down, 1 was scared about being captured but after a few hours in the<br />

woods 1 was ready. 1knew that I would not make it too long without attention and the most<br />

they could do would be to shoot me.<br />

"I went through my pockets and buried my escape money, maps, etc. and covered<br />

the place carefully with the needles from a tree. "<br />

Tail gunner John Knox (BAYNHAM crew)<br />

"Shortly after pulling the ripcord, 1 felt pretty woozy and soon became unconscious.<br />

I woke up hanging in a tall tree. Some German soldiers arrived and cut me down from the<br />

tree."<br />

(They treated him very well but that was not always the case. Some American<br />

airmen learned their costly lesson that in the Third Reich, the term Prisoners of War (POW)<br />

may have a different meaning. Even crewmembers bailing out from the same ship could be<br />

confronted with different kinds oftreatments, depending on whom they met.)<br />

Left waist gunner John Lemons (BA YNHAM crew)<br />

"I pulled the rip cord almost immediately after clearing the ship. 1 had a new chute<br />

harness and had not adjusted it properly to fit nor had 1 wired escape shoes to my harness.<br />

The leg straps were so loose that they almost decapitated me in the groin area, and the<br />

chute risers ripped off one of my outer gloves, giving me a vicious jolt across the face. 1<br />

was floating down in the middle of the battle. 1could hear gunfire, explosions and the rattle<br />

of guns.<br />

"An Me-l09 was right in the midst ofmy area of descent and I thought he was trying


The BailOut<br />

91<br />

to dump my chute. He was so close I could almost reach out and touch his wing tip and<br />

read the expression on his face. It was not long before, due to the lack of oxygen, I passed<br />

out. I did not come to until just before reaching the cloud cover. My landing was in a<br />

fairly open field area - barely missing a barbed wire fence and trees nearby.<br />

"I landed pretty well but the wind seemed to drag me toward the fence again. 1<br />

managed to get loose from the chute okay. My groin area was hurting badly but all else<br />

seemed pretty good. I surely did not know where 1 was - but folded up my chute while<br />

trying to collect my thoughts. Almost immediately I was confronted by two very irate<br />

farmers armed with pitchforks and ready to do me harm. They must have known for sure<br />

who I was.<br />

"Then very quickly from nowhere came two young Gennan Wehnnacht soldiers<br />

with long rifles and bayonets attached. They took control of me and searched me for<br />

weapons. They found none, as I did not carry my .45 pistol with me. They said 'Raus!'<br />

and started marching me toward a small town. As we headed that way, they collected at<br />

least 10 or 20 captured ainnen from the 445 th • Some of those in the group with me on the<br />

route to the small town were hobbled - some with injuries, broken bones, bums and other<br />

wounds from the air battle.<br />

"Then a spit-and-polish-dressed Gennan in a brown unifonn with boots and pistol<br />

halted the group. He was screaming all kinds of insults, calling us all kind of names, very<br />

belligerent. He was completely out of control and ready to do us immediate harm. I was in<br />

the front row and he began to club those of us including me. I broke ranks as he clubbed<br />

me in the face. I bolted to get out ofhis way and he followed me and cocked his pistol as if<br />

to let me have it. I just knew he was going to shoot me as I stopped. The two young<br />

soldiers then got their act together and yelled 'Raus, raus!' and all we knew it was time to<br />

run as fast and as best we could.<br />

"For some reason the Gennan who accosted us let us go. We double-timed till he<br />

was out of sight and proceeded to a small city hall basement in some small town where<br />

other captured ainnen were also brought in. I did not see another member of my crew and<br />

did not know what had happened to any ofthem. n<br />

Pilot James Baynham (BAYNHAM crew)


92 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

"I had delayed my chute opening until 2000 feet Immediately after a hard landing<br />

in a field, fanners caught me. I was taken to a small village where the life·threatening<br />

situation could have led to lynching. But some people calmed down the ones who were<br />

most volatile. "<br />

Copilot Peter Belitsos (BRULAND crew)<br />

"When I went out the bomb bay, I saw a few damaged B-24s and, for the frrst time,<br />

fighters. Just then a radial engine fighter, FW-190 or P-47, headed straight at me. I said a<br />

prayer and immediately disappeared in the clouds. I landed on a farm at the edge of a large<br />

grove of trees. A Frenclnnan came running over, turned me toward the trees and helped me<br />

out of my chute, talking excitedly. He was apparently trying to help me escape. However a<br />

small group of farmers were too close behind and captured me. I was punched by a few of<br />

them. One old man was trying to hit me with a gatepost he could hardly lift, but was<br />

restrained. Luckily, the local police came in a short time and took charge. I was taken to a<br />

local lockup in the basement of some officials home, probably the town mayor."<br />

Copilot Walter George Jr. (BRENT crew)<br />

"I had been without oxygen for some time, and I needed to get to a lower altitude<br />

quickly. There were many German fighters in the area. I had a flashback of a poster from<br />

my days in cadet flight training: Cadet Dilbert was suspended in a parachute with a duck on<br />

his head and a big round target painted on his chest. Lined up and coming toward him was<br />

a Japanese aircraft with two big machine guns focused in his direction. I wondered if the<br />

Germans would shoot aviators in parachutes. Also, I was aware of a great number of<br />

fighters and was afraid that I might be caught in a collision caused by the heavy aerial<br />

traffic.<br />

"I was falling, but there was no sensation of it. It was as if I was suspended in<br />

space. I saw aircraft scattered about the sky well above me. I could hear gunfrre and<br />

engine sounds including one that seemed to be running away or diving at very high RPM. I<br />

wondered at the condition of my parachute having gone through the blowtorch three times.<br />

Time would tell. I also knew that I was burned about the head. I was not aware of pain.<br />

From my tucked, cannon ball position, I decided warily to straighten out. I felt for the rip


The Bail Out<br />

93<br />

cord which would open the parachute. This action caused some tumbling and spinning. I<br />

stretched both arms out in a swan-dive position, head down. Perfect control! I tried the<br />

palms of my hands as ailerons. Okay, again perfect control. This was like Superman! It<br />

was an euphoric experience. I loved it to the point where momentarily I forgot about my<br />

predicament; becoming part ofthe elements. How wonderful it must be to be a bird!<br />

"Seeing the overcast far below and feeling that in those clouds I would be safe from<br />

view and would have recovered from any oxygen deficiency, I would open my parachute.<br />

As I began to get closer to the clouds below, I began to get the sensation of falling for the<br />

first time. The approaching clouds formed a solid stratus deck, with no holes. I had no<br />

idea how close to the ground this cloud cover might be. I fell through it quickly with the<br />

ground exposed at some thousands of feet below. I decided to delay opening my parachute<br />

until I reached 1200 or 700 feet. These were height dimensions engraved into my mind<br />

from cadet training.<br />

"After this delay, I pulled the ripcord and threw it away. The opening of the<br />

parachute occurred with the weight on my shoulders as I had been in the swan dive<br />

position. I was jerked upright in a sitting position. The parachute was okay and it worked!<br />

I was aware of a tremendous stillness of motion while suspended in the parachute, as there<br />

was very little wind drift. Strange noises. Lots of debris falling. A big thump somewhere.<br />

I saw a flaming radial engine swoosh into the ground, exploding when it hit the ground.<br />

Small ammunition was going off. I heard the sound of an air raid siren! I was coming<br />

down in a wooded area, and the trees were fast approaching.<br />

"As I touched the tree tops, I assumed a vertical straight position in the harness with<br />

both arms extended upward, though shielding my face. The parachute canopy hooked over<br />

the top of a beech tree and I found myself swinging with the tree trunk just out of reach<br />

about thirty feet above the ground. While resting momentarily in the harness, two foxes<br />

appeared below, confused and agitated by the noise. Assuming that they would fmd a<br />

dense hiding place, I noted their direction so I could reach the same place. Red foxes with<br />

white tips on their tails, they looked as if they had just been groomed for a show. Working<br />

my way over to the trunk of the tree and easing myself down to the ground, I moved off in<br />

the direction ofthe foxes.<br />

"To my surprise, I found that my flying boots had come off. I was moving upward


94 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

toward higher ground. At some point I crossed a wide walking path in the forest, heard<br />

men's voices, rapidly went thirty to fifty feet to the side of the path, went flat on my<br />

stomach with my face buried in the leaves. There were three men - middle-aged and older,<br />

talking, with a fox terrier being petted by the man on the right as they walked. They<br />

walked right on by, not even the dog noticing me. I waited cautiously, then moved quietly<br />

in the direction of the foxes. I found a dense thicket which I had to crawl underneath to get<br />

into. But once inside, there was a clear space and I could see the clouds above. I heard the<br />

sounds of low-flying aircraft. Looking up, I saw three Me-l09s pass overhead. Glancing at<br />

my watch, it was not yet 11 o'clock in the morning! It had been an active morning,<br />

especially that last hour.<br />

"1 appraised my condition. I was okay, but seemed to have been burned about the<br />

face. My helmet, goggles, oxygen mask, and the long, white silk scarf 1 wore shielded my<br />

face somewhat, but not entirely. There were little ridges around my eyes. Picking at them,<br />

I realized that they were pieces of melted oxygen mask that had stuck to my skin. 1 had no<br />

mirror, so could only feel cautiously. The burned areas were painful. The area near my<br />

right eye was worse, probably because 1 was slower going into the flight deck by the<br />

fireball than the other way. My eyebrows seemed to have been singed off. Strange,<br />

because I thought the tops of my eyes were covered by helmet and goggles. 1 was very<br />

lucky.<br />

"Actually, I felt quite secure and relaxed. 1 discarded my Mae West and my silk<br />

scarf since they were highly visible items. 1 checked my escape kit ... it had been rifled.<br />

No map! It had some hard candy, some water purification tablets, and a small collapsible<br />

canteen bag to carry water. I had a very sharp pearl-handled penknife that I always carried.<br />

I proceeded to cut up my heated suit and made shoes from it. 1 also had a finger nail file.<br />

"1 planned to walk to Switzerland, sleeping during the day, traveling fast by night. 1<br />

would maintain a southeastward direction by using the stars as 1 had been taught as a Boy<br />

Scout. 1 would try to maintain a four-mile-per-hour pace, and try very hard to find Lake<br />

Constance, find a boat, and cross at night. All of Germany was blacked out. Switzerland<br />

had lights so it was simple to tell the difference, but for now, there was nothing to do but<br />

wait until nightfall. 1 pulled my small Bible from my left shirt pocket to read excerpts from<br />

Psalms (my favorite book in the Bible). It opened to the Psalm 91: The security of the


The Bail Out<br />

95<br />

godly. With reinforcement from this kind of literature, what could I lose?"<br />

Radio operator Sammy Weiner (BRENT crew)<br />

"I had free fallen about six thousand feet before pulling the cord. Drifting slowly<br />

down, I hit the ground with a thump, rolling over and over. Silently, I gave thanks unto<br />

God for having spared me. I immediately picked up the chute and hid it along with my<br />

gloves, helmet, and goggles in a nearby bush. Just before hitting the ground I had spied<br />

another chute floating into the forest directly ahead. I must know who it was. There was a<br />

small house in the distance but, seeing no sign of human life, boldly I started to cross the<br />

clearing.<br />

"Halfway across, an ME-I09 buzzed me and I hit the dirt fast. I remembered too<br />

late the briefmg to go around a clearing instead of the way I had so unwittingly chosen. I<br />

quickly, got to my feet again and started for the forest, when I saw two figures three<br />

hundred yards away. They had seen me too and were motioning me toward them. I studied<br />

the men intently for a few moments and from that distance I could have sworn they<br />

resembled two members of my crew.<br />

"I had not gone more than a third of the way when I realized my mistake. There was<br />

no turning back now. As I approached closer I perceived one was a tall, burly man with<br />

small eyes placed closely together under bushy eyebrows; the other was short and stocky<br />

with a heavy mustache predominate on his pimply face. Their garb was tattered and not too<br />

clean. However, they appeared friendly enough, and the tall one asked: 'Englander?'<br />

"I shook my head: 'Americaner,' I answered.<br />

"They conversed between themselves in German and then motioned for me to follow<br />

them. They led me to a farmhouse in a hurried secretive manner. Thinking I might be in<br />

the hands of the underground I went submissively. I was still dazed from my miraculous<br />

escape and my throat was dry and parched. I did not have long to ponder on German<br />

hospitality for upon our arrival at the house the tall man grabbed a double barrel shot gun<br />

and threateningly pointed it at me.<br />

"He then marched me to a small congregation that had assembled around the<br />

wreckage of my ship. A German officer was already there. He began shouting at me in<br />

loud, staccato, German monosyllables. I understood enough of his language to know he


96 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

was asking me about the plane, our base, and what had happened to the remaining crew, but<br />

I kept shrugging my shoulders, and shaking my head,


The Bail Out<br />

97<br />

"The questioning began: 'What kind of plane; how many engines; how many men in<br />

the crew; how many bailed out, etc.?'<br />

"She giggled foolishly after each question and each of my replies~ '1 can't answer<br />

that.' The officer looked on in disgust. Her eyes opened wide with awe when I remarked<br />

my home was Hollywood. Becoming bolder, I said, 'You're kind of cute.' She burst into a<br />

fit of laughter ending the interrogation.<br />

"As I sat on the ground, I looked up to see a familiar uniform advancing toward me<br />

under guard. 1 drew a long breath overwhelmed with relief at the sight of a friendly face.<br />

He was a First Lieutenant, a pilot of one of the planes that had bombed Kassel that<br />

morning.<br />

"Our guards were to accompany us on foot to a town twelve kilometers away. At<br />

first they kept the Lieutenant and me walking at a considerable distance apart, but after the<br />

first hour, we had decreased the distance enough to talk to each other in pidgin English. It<br />

was four hours before we met five military police of the Luftwaffe. We rode for hours,<br />

passed a large airfield, stopped in a small village where another American prisoner was<br />

taken aboard, and eventually reached a 'dulag' camp.<br />

"At the dispensary there I received some inadequate medical attention and was taken<br />

to the guardhouse, stripped and given a thorough search. Here I consumed a cup of cold<br />

ersatz coffee and one small morsel of black bread, and was pushed into a cold, damp cell.<br />

Almost immediately, I fell into a dead sleep."<br />

Tail gunner Raymond Ray (WARMAN crew)<br />

"I waited until I fell through the clouds to get clear of the battle and pulled the<br />

ripcord. I was hanging in my chute when an FW-190 passed, climbing back up through the<br />

clouds. Then there was total silence; it was a strange sensation. The first sound 1 heard<br />

was a dog barking. I saw a small village below and 20 or 30 people were looking at me as I<br />

came down. We knew that civilians often killed flyers when they caught them so I felt sure<br />

this was my last day to live. 1 thought of my parents and two brothers and felt sorry when<br />

they received the telegram that told them I was missing in action. I landed at the edge of a<br />

small village. The ground was hard and I was barefoot. I was hit three times in the left<br />

arm.


98 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

"An old man was knocking me around and signaling for me to raise my hands. My<br />

shoulder was shattered so 1 lifted my left hand over my head with my right. He was<br />

searching me and my hand slipped and fell to my side. He thought 1 was reaching for a gun<br />

and hit me again. Two young ladies ran up and pushed the people back. They saw 1 was<br />

wounded and bandaged my wounds from material in my battlefield first aid kit. 1 had<br />

morphine in the kit but they did not give it to me. Maybe they did not know what it was.<br />

After bandaging my wounds, the civilians took me into a small house. They had some<br />

straw on the floor with a blanket over it for me to lie on. The young woman who gave me<br />

first aid took a 22-caliber pistol from her apron pocket and let me see it. She took turns<br />

with the old man to guard me."<br />

Bombardier James Dowling (JOHNSON crew)<br />

"I delayed my chute opening until 1 hit the cloud cover. Before landing, 1 saw two<br />

people looking at me at a railroad crossing. 1 landed in a potato field and was knocked out.<br />

The two old men picked me up and carried me into town. 1 woke up as 1 was being carried.<br />

A young boy, 12-13 years old, was alongside us showing the old men a .45 he had found.<br />

It was mine. It was attached to the electric blanket that covers the gyro. 1 had clipped it<br />

there before we took off. It must have fallen out when 1 went out of the plane.<br />

"Some villagers threw stones at me before 1 was put into a fire brigade building.<br />

Groups of small children came up to the building. When 1 looked out the high windows<br />

facing the street, they screamed and ran away. After a time 1 was taken out with some Red<br />

Cross ladies to the side of a church where a flyer was hanging from a tree by his parachute.<br />

He was dying. They wanted to know if 1 knew him. 1 did not. There was a lot of<br />

confusion. 1 was then thrown into the building where 1 met George Collar and another<br />

airmen whom 1 did not know."<br />

Engineer/Top turret gunner Theodore 1. Myers (MOWAT crew)<br />

"When 1 regained consciousness, 1 found myself hanging in my parachute. 1 saw a<br />

big streaming mass of gasoline on fire go by about two or three hundred feet away. The<br />

slipstream had blown the flames out of my clothes but the fire had already done its terrible<br />

work. My face was so burned that 1 could only see out of the left eye."


The BailOut<br />

99<br />

Tail gunner Frank T. Plesa (MOWAT crew)<br />

(The explosion of Hot Rock had thrown the tail turret out with the gunner still in it.)<br />

!'Somehow, I fell free from my trap of glass and metal. I was groggy but could feel myself<br />

tumbling and twisting in the cold air. I came to while free falling next to our right wing<br />

that was approximately 100 feet away. It was flopping over and over with a swishing<br />

sound and on fire. A horrible sight of the plane I loved. I did not see any other parts of the<br />

fuselage.<br />

"The explosion had taken off my helmet, the oxygen mask, and the goggles. My<br />

heated boots and gloves were missing too. I realized I had a back type chute and was afraid<br />

it may have been burned up badly or was not there. I was not quite sure of myself as yet. I<br />

thought 1 had better try and pull the rip cord. I managed to do it with a badly~burned hand.<br />

I did not feel the chute jerk at all. So I was afraid to look up to see whether or not it<br />

opened. I was relieved to see that white silk all popped and open.<br />

"Floating down, it was very quiet and peaceful. Then after about 10-15 seconds the<br />

ground started coming up and fast. Thank Goodness I was very fortunate to land in a nice<br />

green meadow next to many trees and between high voltage power lines. This was the<br />

place I had in mind where I wanted to land but I could not control my shroud lines because<br />

of my burned hands and chest wounds. I landed very hard in stocking feet, knees bent as<br />

told. I rolled backwards. hit the backside of my head on the ground and this knocked me<br />

out again.<br />

"I came to and saw a Hitler Youth boy, about 14 years old looking down at me. He<br />

also had a small pistol on his belt. I was in shock possibly from burns. My face and head<br />

felt blistered and the skin was tight feeling. My left hand was numb as was my right foot,<br />

my lower leg and chest felt as if I had a bad cut. The Hitler youth boy asked me if I was<br />

English or American. I replied, 'American,' and he said, 'Good.' He spoke English quite<br />

well and helped me unbuckle my parachute harness which was smoldering. I saw the burn<br />

holes in pack and chute. There was a large yellow house and barn 200 yards across the<br />

road.<br />

"He helped me wobble and limp across the road and a woman about 40 years old<br />

came out and they placed me in part of the barn's small sheds. The lady was concerned


100 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

about me and made me lie down on a ladder with straw on it. She ripped off my jacket and<br />

shirt and other under clothes to look at my chest wound. A part of 20-mm shell had ripped<br />

the right side of my breast. She ran her finger over it and said: 'Gut.' She gave me an<br />

apple and then two German soldiers came in. The lady did all she could in first aid, and<br />

then rigged up her carriage with a horse. They put me on it with the two German soldiers,<br />

herself, and a red-haired bombardier. He was mad because he had been shot down and<br />

captured by the soldiers. He more or less blamed the gunners on our bombers. They took<br />

us to a village six miles away - OberurseL<br />

"She went in her doctor's home with me. He gave me a shot; it made me feel better.<br />

Then they took me to a small railroad station and left me alone waiting for a train. It took<br />

all afternoon before a train picked me up. I was transported to a hospital in Frankfurt<br />

where Catholic nuns gave me a shot and removed all the shrapnel they could - about a half<br />

hand full of brass and lead that they put in my shirt pocket. They gave me more first aid<br />

and dressed my wounds. We slept on stretchers the first night in the hallways of this<br />

bospital."<br />

Pilot William Bruce (BRUCE crew)<br />

"After free falling for an eternity, I pulled the rip cord. The chute opened and I hit a<br />

very large tree within four or five seconds. My right leg was hung up over a branch and<br />

wrapped around my neck It took me some time to untangle myself and climb down this<br />

fiftywfoot tree.<br />

"What was left of my ship crashed into the forest not too far from me along with<br />

several others causing a massive forest fire. No one evidently saw my chute however I<br />

heard a lot of yelling and screaming about something. It was probably about the fire.<br />

Several dogs growled at me but were fmally called by their owners.<br />

"It took me about ten hours crawling through the trees and along the stone walls to<br />

fmd a bouse. By this time I knew I was badly hurt - I could not stand up covered with<br />

blood and really, really hurting.<br />

"I crawled along a fence to a farmhouse - a man and two women came out and<br />

carried me into the house. They tried to wash my face and give me some milk but I could<br />

not even swallow. I think they thought I was dying and I wasn't so sure I wasn't.


The Bail Out<br />

101<br />

"After a few minutes their grandson who was about 10-12 years old came in and<br />

pointed a small rifle at me. His grandfather knocked it out of his hands. With that, the<br />

little bastard ran out of the house and retmned with seven soldiers all carrying submachine<br />

guns.<br />

"Their fear of me was incredible. They pointed their guns at me and started yelling.<br />

Not being able to move, and lying flat on my back, I certainly did not pose a threat to them.<br />

Finally an officer, after trying to communicate with me, spoke in French. This I<br />

understood. He questioned me first as to whether I was carrying as pistol - I said 'no.'<br />

Then he searched me and was satisfied that I wasn't going to shoot them all.<br />

"Next he wanted to know the bomber group 1 was in and what type of plane I was<br />

flying. I gave only my name, my rank and serial number as we had been instructed in<br />

situations such as this. Thirty minutes went by - same questions - same answers.<br />

"Soon several other German officers arrived and put me in a horse drawn open farm<br />

wagon. We proceeded to drive to a village where it seemed like half the German<br />

population had gathered. I certainly was the center of attention. They cursed me - spit on<br />

me - hit me with rocks - sticks - fists and anything else they happened to have handy.<br />

Finally after the officer had had the glory of capturing me, they put me in a small barn. I<br />

really thought I was dying at this time. The crowd did not let up on me and continued to<br />

throw stones through the windows and pound the walls. After about three hours everybody<br />

left."<br />

Navigator Corman Bean (SCHAEN crew)<br />

"1 free fell until I reached the cloud cover, then I pulled the rip cord. When 1 came<br />

out, I was close enough to the ground that I could pick out individual trees in the forest, so<br />

that had to be pretty low.<br />

"I was caught in a tree. I got over to the trunk and was able to take some of the slack<br />

off the cords on the parachute and shinny on down the tree."<br />

Bombardier George Collar (SCHAEN crew)<br />

"I came down in stocking feet close to a little village and was quickly captured by<br />

three men, one on a bicycle, and two farmers carrying pitchforks. They marched me back


102 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

to the village where a crowd lined the streets to get a close up look at me. It was like<br />

walking down a gantlet, and I sensed their hate. A teenager stepped out and kicked me with<br />

his big rubber boots. We stopped in the courtyard of the Burgenneister's house. They<br />

made me loosen my pants and hold my hands out while they searched me. 1 was standing<br />

there with my pants around my ankles when a guy came through the crowd and planted his<br />

fist right between my eyes. While he was swinging again and again, I was trying to get my<br />

pants back and to dodge away from his big fists. Finally I got my pants up and had two<br />

hands to work with so he broke away and picked up a long-handled spade. He swung at me<br />

with this square-nosed spade. I ducked and felt it whistle over my head. I closed in on him<br />

and got hold of the spade. As we were wrestling, an old man with a big walrus mustache<br />

and a green felt hat came out of the crowd and started to help me. Then the Burgenneister<br />

and the village cop came to my aid and disarmed the ugly looking farmer. They marched<br />

me away from the crowd to the local jail. They locked the door and 1 sat on the straw on<br />

the floor. What was going to happen next?"<br />

Waist gunner Glen McCormick (CHILTON crew).<br />

"I was the first to bail out from the rear of the airplane. 1 delayed opening my chute<br />

to avoid detection from the ground, if 1 could. My oxygen mask was flipping me in the face<br />

and I decided enough was enough and pulled it off and dropped it. To my surprise, it went<br />

up not down!<br />

"I opened my chute when I dropped into a cloud undercover - I didn't know where<br />

the ground was and I wasn't going to take a chance. After passing through the clouds, I saw<br />

two airplanes headed toward me and I said, 'I'm going to get shot for sure!' It turned out<br />

they were P-51s and not ME-I09s. One of them went right on by and the other circled me<br />

and waved. I thought you son-of-a gun you are going back to a nice warm bed and 1 don't<br />

know where I'm going!<br />

"Nearing the ground, 1 saw many chutes already on the ground. It was obvious that<br />

several airplanes were downed in this immediate area. I landed in a tree and my chute<br />

caught in the top of it. 1 was about 10 feet from the ground. I swung on my chute to the<br />

trunk of the tree and slid down to the ground.<br />

"I came across a small lean-to made from small branches and limbs. This was


The Bail Out<br />

103<br />

obviously a project of a young lad. I know because I built one very similar as a youngster.<br />

This appeared to be a good place to spend the time waiting for darkness."<br />

Left Waist Gunner Lawrence Bowers (MINER crew)<br />

"I fell through a tree. I tried unsuccessfully to break my fall by grasping the limbs.<br />

As soon as I hit the ground, I found a place to hide under some logs. Soldiers and captured<br />

airmen stopped on the road just above me. One soldier stepped out to urinate and saw me."<br />

(Bowers was invited to join his fellow prisoners. Among them he found his tail<br />

gunner, Arthur Lamberson.)<br />

Navigator Frank Bertram (MINER crew)<br />

"I landed in a forest in the middle of tall trees. My chute caught in them and<br />

collapsed, sending me forward through the branches. I hit the dirt very hard, and when I<br />

came to, I was laying on my back. I had been out a little bit. I could not move and I<br />

thought my back was broken. That really scared me. I could move my arms alright and<br />

my parachute was laying alongside of me there. So the first thing I had to do was try to<br />

hide it. I started to pull on it. I rolled over, dragging my legs and digging with my elbows.<br />

I crawled along to pull the chute together, then threw branches over it as best I could.<br />

These were some of the branches I broke off coming down the tree."<br />

'''Pretty soon movement started to come back to my legs and I looked down at my<br />

feet. I had on the big, leather, fur-lined boots and I took one of them off and boy, you talk<br />

about swollen. That foot was three times its normal size. But I got that big flying boot<br />

back on it. I crawled for a long time, sitting down and crawling, sitting down and crawling<br />

again. I was trying to hide undemeath the trees and the bank of a little creek there. My<br />

foot was so bad I could not bend it any way."<br />

Pilot Reginald Miner (MINER crew)<br />

"I was falling head first, on my back, feet up, watching my plane spinning down<br />

right above me. I didn't pull the ripcord since 1 thought the opening chute might foul on<br />

the plane. We kept falling at about the same speed. I finally rolled over to see how far<br />

down the ground was and found it to be close, so pulled the ripcord, and the chute popped


104 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

1 swung out once and dropped on my back in a lush, grassy meadow.<br />

"I jumped up, looked behind me, and saw my burning B·24 less than 100 feet away,<br />

just outside a small town. I saw some woods to the south, took off my chute and Mae West<br />

and started in that direction. I was almost immediately cut off by two unifonned men<br />

running toward me from the town. They took me to the police chief's house."<br />

Waist gunner Glen McConnick (CHILTON crew)<br />

"I was still quiet in my shelter. Earlier in the afternoon, I had heard voices and the<br />

sound of horses and a wagon. From the topside of the bluff, I had seen women digging<br />

potatoes. And now the wagon went by, evidently going home. The edge of the woods was<br />

a scant 15 feet from the shelter I had borrowed.<br />

"After the wagon passed, I heard the noise of someone approaching. It was a small<br />

boy about 8·9 years of age who was probably checking on his secret retreat. I stepped from<br />

the shelter and said, 'Hi.' When he saw who I was, his jaw dropped and his eyes got as big<br />

as saucers! He took off on a dead run and needless to say I did too. It was my frrst eye to<br />

eye contact with a Gennan citizen!"<br />

Bombardier George Collar (SCHAEN crew)<br />

(His loneliness in the small jailhouse was short. After 5-6 minutes, George Eppley<br />

was also brought into the same cell. Then, they heard a commotion and somebody yelling:<br />

"You can not do that to a U.S. officer." Obviously they could and the man ended up on the<br />

straw floor. It was Lt. Sommers. When the little cell was full of American ainnen, the<br />

Gennans rushed them out and lined them up. From that line they picked three men out ­<br />

George Collar, George Eppley, and Sommers. The Gennan soldiers loaded the other<br />

ainnen in a truck and they went away.)<br />

"They marched the three of us down the street and put us in two horse-drawn<br />

wagons filled with hay. We had an escort of civilians, boys and men, all armed to some<br />

extent. Hans, a little short man, had a Mauser pistol with a wooden holster. This wooden<br />

holster was half as long as his leg. I had no idea what they were going to do with us. It<br />

(The Gennans led them out of the village and stopped. They motioned the three<br />

American ainnen into an orchard. There, it became clear to Collar and his two friends what


The Bail Out<br />

105<br />

the Jerries wanted them for - to pick up the dead bodies of their fallen comrades.)<br />

"Lying on the ground, was the body of one of our men who had landed without a<br />

chute. We picked him up to put him in the horse-drawn wagon, every bone in his body was<br />

broken, his head was flattened. A Gennan removed one of his two dogtags and put it in an<br />

envelope. 1 glanced at the second dogtag and saw the name of Bateman.<br />

"Then, we went in a pasture and 1 found two legs. He was an officer as he had his<br />

'pinks' on. In the middle of an open field, we came across a radioman named Joseph<br />

Gilfoil, who was Eppley's friend. He had a bad leg wound, but came down in a chute. He<br />

was lying in a pool of blood and was dead.<br />

"We traveled up and down the hills and forests and did not return to the village until<br />

well into the evening. We returned to jail to receive a loaf of bread and some ersatz coffee.<br />

Later that evening, we were picked up by a Wehnnacht truck, which was filled with<br />

wounded men from the 445 th . Some of them were in very bad shape, with terrible wounds.<br />

Among them we found Lt. Gerald Kathollying near the tailgate in considerable pain. We<br />

thought that his back was broken."<br />

(The Luftwaffe soldiers came in at 11 :00 PM to pick up Raymond Ray. His fellow<br />

ainnen carried him in the flat bed truck to a hospital at Eisenach. The able men carried all<br />

the wounded to an emergency room on the second floor. Others were kept in the basement<br />

of the Eisenach city hall. There were at least 20 to 24 ainnen with all kind of wounds,<br />

including burns. Some could not walk. There was little first aid available except for gauze<br />

dressing, salve for burns and aspirin.)<br />

Engineer/Top turret gunner Howard Boldt (BAYNHAM crew)<br />

"Night came and I decided to attract some attention so 1 gathered some of the<br />

needles from the tree and started a fire. 1 was careful not to set the whole woods on fife, as<br />

1 did not want that much attention. Just as I got my fife going I heard an air raid siren in the<br />

distance. I figured the British bombers were coming and then I heard them. I knew that<br />

they flew very low so I put my fire out real quick, as I did not want them shooting at me.<br />

"I became very thirsty and I remembered seeing what I thought might be a pond<br />

about hundred and fifty feet from me. The only way 1 could move was in a sitting position.<br />

I would raise my behind and go backward dragging my legs. I made about a hundred feet


106 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

in a little over three hours and where I had thought there was a pond did not turn out to be<br />

one. I did however go directly to a wagon rut in a trail that had some water in it. I did not<br />

wony about how clean it was. Later that night I heard a slight noise. I called out and it<br />

must have been a deer as it took off real fast. The trail appeared to be fairly well used. I<br />

remember seeing movies of the Germans in these large touring cars driving through the<br />

woods real fast so I moved to one side of the trail just in case."<br />

Waist gunner Glen McCormick (CHILTON crew)<br />

"After dark, I dug some potatoes in a nearby field and put them in the lining of my<br />

flight jacket. I crossed the bridge over the river, the railroad tracks, and made my way to<br />

the autobahn. I started walking on it in a southerly direction. I hadn't walked too long<br />

before I passed another village east of the road. After passing that village, I left the<br />

autobahn and went into the forest. By that time, I was extremely tired and needed to rest.<br />

It had been a long, long day!"


The Way Back<br />

107<br />

Chapter 5<br />

THE WAY BACK<br />

Twelve of 35 ships were leaving the so-called vertical front, but they were still in the<br />

danger zone - a gigantic tri-dimensional web where hungry spiders wearing black crosses<br />

could pick them up for dinner. The surviving bombers had lost their tight formation. They<br />

were the pitiful remains of one of the top bombing accuracy groups in the entire Second<br />

Bombardment Division. There would be no more marksmanship award in "Target<br />

Victory," which designated them as the three-month accuracy champs. Today they were<br />

fighting simply to survive and make it back home.<br />

The BRULAND crew<br />

As the fire in No. 3 engine would not go out, copilot Peter Belitsos went back to the<br />

fuel transfer control panel with engineer Stephen Gray. They went through the procedure<br />

again and again but nothing worked. "We flew for quite a while losing altitude and were<br />

now fully expecting that the ship would blow up when Palmer hit the bell. "<br />

As the autopilot was not working, pilot Palmer Bruland tried to trim the plane so he<br />

could get to the bomb bay and jump. But when he left the controls, the ship nosed up.<br />

After going back and leveling off a few times, he fmally made it out.<br />

The nine-man crew parachuted safely from 922-Q which went down 3 kilometers<br />

southeast of Giessen.<br />

The DEWEY crew<br />

Because the intercom was out, pilot William Dewey sent his copilot, 2nd Lt.<br />

William Boykin Jr., to the waist to report on the damage. Looking out the copilot's<br />

window, the pilot could see a three-foot diameter hole in the upper surface of the wing<br />

behind the No.3 engine, where lOO-octane gasoline was splashing out: "When he came<br />

back, Boykin was shaken. The tail turret had caught fire, and both waist gunners were<br />

wounded and bloody along with the tail gunner. There was a huge hole in the right waist<br />

ahead of the window, and the left waist window was shattered. Control cables to the tail


108 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

were partially damaged, and the twin vertical rudders were frayed and disintegrating. The<br />

hydraulic fluid flIe at the tail turret was quickly extinguished. There was no oxygen and<br />

the electric flying' suits were inoperative in the waist.<br />

"Navigator 2nd Lt. Herbert E Bailey took over the nose turret. The nose turret<br />

gunner, Leslie Medlock, made numerous trips from the front of the ship through the bomb<br />

bay, carrying portable oxygen bottles to the three wounded gunners, covering one of them<br />

with his jacket and applying flIst aid. Fortunately our VHF radio performed perfectly, and I<br />

made several calls to the group leader asking him to slow down from 160 mph air speed<br />

indicated, because our ship was shaking and shuddering like it was about to break apart."<br />

The MERCER crew<br />

Pilot Jackson Mercer had tried to stay close to Isom' s ship but could only keep him<br />

in sight - formation was out of the question. He sent copilot Leo Pouliot and engineer<br />

Kenneth Kribs to check on crew members and damages.<br />

In the bomb bay, the copilot saw that the whole fuel system was damaged: "Our<br />

main tanks must have been hit, and gas was coming from the seams. The fuel~transfer<br />

pump was out and the cross-feed leaked badly, Kribs told me he thought the self-sealing<br />

line would plug itself up, so there was some hope of saving gas. 1 went past the bay back<br />

into the waist. The boys had had a rough time there, and the sides of the ship looked like<br />

an old-fashioned potato-grater.<br />

"George Noorigian, the bombardier, was on the right waist and Harry Wheaton was<br />

on the left. They gave me a slight grin but not the usual smile. Both remained at their guns<br />

and were on the watch for more fighters. 1 noticed the broken oxygen bottles, and George<br />

told me that when the bottles were hit the waist got full of white smoke. One ofthe 20~mm<br />

shells had exploded in a box beside the bombardier, and only the stout box-sides had saved<br />

the boys from shrapnel. George told me how he had, practically sitting on the floor, tried to<br />

get a fighter that was coming in high when a 20-mm shell came through and missed his rear<br />

by about four inches.<br />

"I went to see the tail gunner, Harry Lied. He smiled a little and said he was all<br />

right, although he had been without oxygen for five minutes during the battle. I noticed the<br />

tail was shaking badly. Next I went forward to the nose to talk to Milton Fandler, the


The Way Back 109<br />

navigator. Everything was all right there and he was figuring the shortest way home for us.<br />

After spending a few minutes with him, I went back to the cockpit."<br />

PoUliot and Kribs reported back to pilot Mercer that the crew was "all shook up" but<br />

OK - nobody hurt! "As for damage - we had no rudder controls, no radio, no hydraulic<br />

pressure, low oxygen and the No.2 engine was running very rough. Both Kribs and<br />

Pouliot were concerned about the amount of gas we were losing, and could not make an<br />

estimate of how much flight time we could expect. They had found a major leak in the<br />

bomb bay crossRfeed along with a hydraulic leak. Kribs had cranked open the bomb bay<br />

doors about a foot to reduce the danger of explosion and fIfe, and he warned each crew<br />

member about no smoking. Paul said the waist and tail sections looked like a sieve from<br />

shrapnel damage, and jokingly told of a 20-mm shell that exploded in a box of chaff which<br />

was stacked immediately behind George Noorigian on the floor with no damage.<br />

"As soon as we got this information I asked Paul to go down to the navigator's table<br />

and ask Milton Fandler for a course to an RAP emergency field at Manston, England. I<br />

knew a route to Manston would put us over friendly territory quicker than a course direct to<br />

our home base, giving us a better opportunity to get on the ground safely if we ran out of<br />

gas or some other emergency developed. I also liked the idea of Manston's very long<br />

runway over an up-and-down terrain for a 'no flaps, no brakes landing,' and I knew that<br />

they were well equipped for emergency landings.<br />

"We increased power to catch up with Isom to let him know we were OK even if we<br />

could not contact him by radio - just to wave and say 'bye.' We needed to get to a lower<br />

altitude soon because of the low oxygen supply so we began letting down at 500 and then<br />

300 ft. per minute. This enabled us to increase our airspeed considerably and then to<br />

throttle back to save fuel. I didn't want to feather No.2 thinking we might just need that<br />

little bit of additional power in any further emergency, but we did throttle No: 2 back<br />

further and reduced the RPMs to reduce the vibrations to a minimum."<br />

The HAUTMAN crew<br />

Mairzy Doats' power plants had been cut in half. There were two holes in the right<br />

wing where No.3 and No.4 engines had been. The tail turret was all shot up, the radio<br />

was almost out and one of the rudders mostly shot off. The ship was losing altitude. The


110 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

pilot ordered the men to throw out everything they could fmd loose or tear loose including<br />

flak suits, guns, and the auxiliary power unit.<br />

A few minutes later, Carroll Snidow saw two P-38s come in and tuck up near them:<br />

"We got in contact with them to give us a radio fix to our nearest friendly airport. They<br />

gave us a heading to a field in France and told us it was about fifty minutes away. We kept<br />

losing altitude at the rate of 300 feet per minute. It was going to be close but we thought<br />

we had a chance."<br />

The REYNOLDS crew<br />

As the intercom was out of commission, navigator James Withey shifted to a walkaround<br />

bottle and went to investigate the damage sustained by both crew and ship.<br />

Entering the flight deck, he was met by a strong odor of gasoline. The bomb bay doors<br />

were opened to reduce the fire hazard. The waist area was a shambles. Waist gunners<br />

S/Sgt. Lars E. Larsen and Sgt. Maynard Danner were down on the floor, seriously<br />

wounded. Tail gunner Harry Twigg had put out a small hydraulic fife) despite wounds<br />

sustained when the tail turret was hit.<br />

Engineer S/Sgt. James T. Engleman swung his turret from 9 o'clock to 3 o'clock to<br />

check the upper surface of the ship from his top turret. Wings and fuselage were riddled by<br />

numerous holes. Two feet of wing and flap were missing from the left wing and No. 2<br />

engine was on fife. The right rudder was flapping wildly and he could see the top of the<br />

tail turret was sheared open like a tin can. The navigator made his way back to the nose<br />

and told Sgt. Robert M. Long, the nose turret gunner, to go to the rear of the plane and take<br />

care ofthe wounded.<br />

Though Little Audrey was alone over Germany, three engines were still pulling and<br />

the fife in the No.2 engine had died out. Pilot Donald Reynolds reduced power and headed<br />

for France. A P-51 showed up but, because of their damaged radio, they were unable to<br />

communicate. A burst of flak shook both ships and the Little Friend left them.<br />

The HAUTMAN crew<br />

Mairzy Doats had been losing altitude for about forty minutes after coming out of<br />

the overcast. The ship was down to 120 mph and was still escorted by the P-38s. Suddenly


The Way Back<br />

III<br />

flak opened up on them. At that time, they were flying so low - 1,200 ft - and going so<br />

slow that they presented a penect target. Number 2 engine started smoking and soon there<br />

wasn't anYthing to do but abandon ship. The pilot gave the order to bailout.<br />

Engineer T ISgt. Thomas Land went frrst from the flight deck, followed by the radio<br />

operator, T/Sgt. Harold W. Giesler, nose turret gunner, S/Sgt. Dale C. Maupin, and then<br />

navigator Maynard L. Jones.<br />

Copilot Carroll Snidow went back to his seat to get his handkerchief and hat: "I<br />

couldn't reach them but I did get my shoes that were tied together under the seat. Then I<br />

just took a step out of the bomb bay. I started falling head over heels. I tried to fall straight<br />

but I couldn't until I remembered something S-2 had told us once: 'Stiffen up.' That I did<br />

and sure enough, it worked. My next thought was to pull the rip cord. I started to pull but<br />

I again remembered the S-2: 'Delay your jump.' I did this for a couple of seconds and then<br />

I pulled it. The chute opened up nicely with scarcely a jerk. However, I dropped my shoes<br />

but caught them with my feet.<br />

"While floating down, I was trying to get my shoes but when I reached down for<br />

them they slipped away. I looked around me. I saw our ship in a steep bank to the right<br />

and very low. It hit the ground and I am glad I wasn't in it. It looked as if the B-24 was<br />

spread out all over Germany. Black smoke came up from the few remains of the airplane. I<br />

then looked below me. I saw that I was going to land in an open field near some woods and<br />

right beside a railroad. There were approximately twenty people working in the field so I<br />

knew that I wouldn't have a chance of escaping.<br />

"I then looked above me and I saw Hautman' s chute. About that time, I hit the<br />

ground. I was finally on the ground without a scratch. The pilot hollered at me before he<br />

hit in the woods over a hill. I got out ofmy chute and awaited my captors.<br />

"They soon came upon me and I was surprised to have one of the women in the<br />

group speak to me in good English. She wanted to know if I was hurt, if I was American or<br />

British. She told me she had a husband in West Virginia and that he liked it over there. I<br />

assume he was a prisoner in America. She told me everything would be OK with me and I<br />

would be treated fme. They took me to a nearby road. In the meantime they brought Land<br />

and Giesler up. They took us in an automobile to Niedermandig air base. We waited three<br />

hours while they searched us. They then brought another crew that had been captured. We


112 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

had a short ride in a charcoal burning truck to a railroad station."<br />

MairlJ' Doats crashed 2.5 km southwest of Bassenheim, 500 m. east of<br />

"Karmelenberg."<br />

The FRENCH crew<br />

Pilot John French and copilot Robert Cochran were flying the ship with two<br />

feathered props. Gas was leaking in the bomb bay. The battle had been so intense that the<br />

waist area was carpeted with empty shells. The gunners scooped them up and threw them<br />

out the window. One P-38 flew with the damaged ship.<br />

Tail gunner Herbert Schwartz made his way up to the waist position. "We were three<br />

busy boys at this time as we had to throw everything possible out the camera hatch. I threw<br />

out all the flak suits, tore some of the radio equipment and ammunition boxes loose from<br />

the waist positions and dumped them out<br />

"About this time, Lt French called to the navigator asking for our position.<br />

Navigator Robert Tims replied that we had been in friendly territory for two minutes. Just<br />

as he got these words out of his mouth, we heard a bunch of loud noises. Our pilot wanted<br />

to know if we were test firing our guns. We then discovered that we were flying over the<br />

heart of the city of Koblenz, Getmany. This was a terrific shock as we knew now that our<br />

navigator was lost and we had no way to contact anyone."<br />

Then the P-38 came back. The French crew tried to communicate by gestures with<br />

the P-38 pilot but to no avail. Radio operator T/Sgt. Fred N. Fiske found the flashlight and<br />

started to flash the signal 'can we land here.' The P-38 pilot pointed his fmger downward<br />

and pulled away. Assuming they were over friendly territory, French let down beneath the<br />

clouds.<br />

The REYNOLDS crew<br />

When Little Audrey crossed the Rhine River at low altitude, the crew felt they could<br />

finally make it. Suddenly, a hail of shell bursts surrounded them. Pilot Donald Reynolds<br />

and copilot, 2nd Lt. Herbert T. Robinson pushed the controls forward, heading for the deck<br />

to escape the deadly shower. Number 3 engine erupted in flames. Despite the attempt<br />

made by the pilots to shake the anti-aircraft batteries, they remained in the middle of a


The Way Back<br />

113<br />

storm of shells. As the ship cleared a rise and dropped on the other side, radio operator<br />

S/Sgt. Robert C. Sheehan and engineer James Engleman assumed their crash positions on<br />

the flight deck.<br />

Navigator James Withey was standing just behind the pilots: "Just before landing we<br />

lost one of our rudders so we landed slightly on the copilot side. This split the fuselage,<br />

pinning my head between the top and the copilot seat. I was pried out with a gun barrel<br />

used as a bar to lift the top enough so I could slide my head down and out."<br />

Within minutes, a truck came and soldiers surrounded the plane. They made an<br />

opening to free the five men trapped on the flight deck. The pilots, the radio operator, the<br />

engineer, and Withey escaped unscathed and ran to the rear of the plane. The 20-nun shells<br />

had rained through the thin skin of aluminum and exploded in the middle of the already<br />

wounded airmen.<br />

Lars Larsen, the left waist gunner, was dead and right waist gunner Maynard<br />

Danner, was seriously wounded. The tail gunner, Harry Twigg, was wounded too, but less<br />

seriously. Sadly, nose turret gunner Robert Long who, just a few minutes before, was<br />

taking care of his friends, was in a terrible state. Those who were able to walk were taken<br />

under guard to the Niedermandig Air Base.<br />

Little Audrey had "belly landed" 2.5 km east of the railroad station of Polch.<br />

The HEITZ crew<br />

Bugs Bunny had lost half of its firepower and power plants. The three men in the<br />

rear were wounded. In addition to severe damage to the right wing and left rudder, the gas<br />

tanks were leaking. Their chance of returning to base was bleeding in the slipstream.<br />

Under these conditions, losing altitude was inevitable. To reach and clear the front line,<br />

pilot Raymond Heitz ordered the crew to throw overboard everything they could to lessen<br />

weight.<br />

'From his radio operator position, Fabian Mack noticed their ship was now covered<br />

by two P-51s but saw no sign of the other B-24s. When they crossed the Rhine River, their<br />

escort left them.<br />

The UEBELHOER crew


114 CRlTEL<strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

After the attack, pilot Web Uebelhoer had tried to get six other B-24s to fly<br />

fonnation on him. One by one the ships had dropped out until only one was left. When<br />

they dropped to under 10,000 feet, the crew removed oxygen masks and turned the heated<br />

suits off. The cumbersome but effective flak suits dropped down at their feet. A heavy<br />

weight was relieved from their shoulders, but the burden remained. They were still in<br />

shock and disbelief at what they had been through. The return trip was very somber and<br />

sad, with just some disjointed conversation about what had happened.<br />

At 11 :54, they flew over Ostende, on the Belgian coast. Just a couple of weeks<br />

earlier, Ostende had been a well-defended Gennan airfield that had claimed its toll on<br />

bomber fonnations going-by either too close or too low. Now it was a safe landmark to<br />

leave the continent.<br />

The crippled ships were confronted by their last major obstacle - the North Sea. Of<br />

course, the RAF was operating a very effective air-sea rescue system with fast speedboats.<br />

But, even when the Gennans did not deal themselves into the game, ditching a B-24 was<br />

not a piece of cake. The Liberator was not famous for its ditching ability. Returning from<br />

a mission, some of the men had seen other seriously damaged planes trying to ditch and<br />

missing it - sinking right to the bottom or cartwheeling hopelessly to destruction.<br />

The MERCER crew<br />

After a suspenseful two-plus hours on needles and pins, pilot Jackson Mercer saw<br />

the head of his navigator pop up into the astrodome where he started making swimming<br />

motions. "We had no trouble interpreting that we were over the English ChatUlel. At that<br />

time we were down to 3500 feet and just above a layer of broken clouds. And then -,. a<br />

sight to behold when we broke through the low clouds there were the cliffs of Dover and<br />

beyond lay the long runway at Manston. Milton had done his job well Manston right on<br />

the button."<br />

Kenneth Kribs, the engineer, and left waist gunner Harry Wheaton began cranking<br />

the main gear down, then kicked the nose wheel out. The pilots did not get a "green light"<br />

on the instrument panel to confinn that the gear was locked. As they circled the field, the<br />

pilot tried to shake the gear into a locked position by waggling the wings but still no "green<br />

light." They could not tell for sure with a visual check and the crew prepared for a crash


The Way Back<br />

115<br />

landing.<br />

Pilot Jackson Mercer used the ailerons and elevators while copilot Leo Pouliot<br />

worked the autopilot rudder control to assist in lining up. The landing was almost nonnal<br />

except for the excessive speed required for a "no flap" landing. When they rolled almost to<br />

a stop the pilots found there was sufficient pressure in the brake accumulators to set the<br />

brakes one final time.<br />

The crew jumped out of the plane and some got down on hands and knees to kiss old<br />

mother earth. And when they looked behind them, they saw that their ship was a flying<br />

wreck.<br />

Technical Sergeant Robert Bennett, the radio operator, brought out a little book that<br />

had dropped down from somewhere to hit him. He had picked it up and discovered it was a<br />

New Testament.<br />

They reported to the American Forces Detachment which in turn called Tibenham to<br />

let them know that they were alive and in need of some transportation. Fandler and Pouliot<br />

had ended their tour with a harrowing, deadly, and emotional mission.<br />

The DEWEY crew<br />

To get the wounded to a hospital quicker, pilot William Dewey was ready to risk<br />

ditching in the channel: "I switched to the Air-Sea Rescue channel, and called 'Colgate.'<br />

IdentifYing our plane and problem, 'Colgate' had given me a long count so they could get a<br />

radar fix on us. He gave me a heading toward England, and ordered me to report back<br />

every ten minutes.<br />

About an hour later we dropped through the clouds to see the white cliffs of Dover<br />

and the super long runways of Manston directly ahead. Would our gear and flaps operate?<br />

What about the landing gear and tires? The landing gear went down and locked perfectly,<br />

full flaps went down, and the tires were fully inflated. My landing was the best 1 ever made<br />

in a B-24 -like we were on feathers."<br />

The UEBELHOER crew


116 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

At 12:56, the wheels of the deputy lead ship touched down on the friendly concrete<br />

of its base, 6 hours and 36 minutes after Robert Sims, the young radio operator, had entered<br />

their take-off time on his radio log.<br />

After taxiing to hardstand 48, the pilots went through the procedure of shutting the<br />

plane down. The ground crew placed the wheel chocks and that was it. When the pilot<br />

stepped outside, he saw his aircraft had not escaped unscathed. The ground crew found<br />

that a shell had gone through the oil supply tank for No. 1 engine before exploding. The<br />

self-sealing reservoir did its job before any oil was lost. One magneto was also shot out on<br />

the same engine - by a .50 caliber! But they were back.<br />

At the plane, they were met by Colonel William Jones, the group CO. The group<br />

bombardier and the group navigator were there too. The crew was questioned on what<br />

happened and where the rest of the group was.<br />

Without any explanation, the Group navigator took navigator Donald Whitefield's<br />

briefcase. Then ground transport picked them up and rushed them to debriefing. As Capt.<br />

U ebelhoer left the room and stepped outside, he was surrounded by about a dozen men.<br />

Among them was Col. Jimmy Stewart, who had arrived from Wing Headquarters. He had<br />

led the 445 th Group on combat missions and was aware of what could happen in such<br />

circumstances.<br />

Colonel Jones asked Uebelhoer if he wanted to lead the mission back to Kassel the<br />

next day. He replied: "Thanks, but no thanks!"<br />

The SMITH crew<br />

The wheels of the aircraft kissed the long-awaited concrete of Tibenham with a<br />

squealing sound, the one your squadron commander did not like to hear in other<br />

circumstances. The pilots held the nose up until the speed dropped down to 75 mph. Then<br />

they applied some gentle touches on the brakes to slow down the silver B-24. They cleared<br />

the runway and took the perimeter track to hardstand 36.<br />

While taxiing, pilot Donald Smith closed the turbo-superchargers, copilot Adolf<br />

Lerch switched the booster pumps "OFF," raised the wing flaps to the "UP" position, and<br />

opened cowl flaps fully. The engineer started the APU and reported it. The copilot kept on<br />

checking the brake pressure until Smith rolled the ship into its emplacement.


The Way Back<br />

117<br />

The SWOFFORD crew<br />

Sweetest Rose of Texas went off the end of the runway because it had lost the<br />

hydraulic fluid and had no brakes. While radio operator Eugene Thurn was hurried to the<br />

dispensary, officers collected the charts and maps from navigator Henry Dobek. Then the<br />

crew was taken to the debriefing room.<br />

The ISOM crew<br />

When they approached the base, pilot Isom and copilot Justice saw red flares to<br />

request priority for landing coming from. the plane in front of Patty Girl. They parked a<br />

ship barely injured - with only a few holes - while the 445 th Group had virtually ceased to<br />

exist.<br />

At hardstand 18, they were getting their gear from the plane, when they were<br />

suddenly surrounded by MPs. They told the crew not to talk to anyone and whisked them<br />

off to a debriefmg room and locked the door. There they were subjected to a thorough<br />

interrogation, asked question after question.<br />

The KRIVIK crew<br />

Despite another engine losing power, pilot Stanley Krivik had been against a landing<br />

in France. With the hydraulic system gone and wounded aboard, he thought his ship<br />

needed a long runway and his crew a nearby hospital. And they made it. Krivik and<br />

copilot Leonard Trotta had brought their ship home. Percy was the only one of the ten<br />

ships of the 702 nd Squadron to survive the onslaught. The three gunners in the rear were<br />

wounded: James Paul, William Rand, and Harry Puto. Of the four engines, only one was<br />

functioning properly - two were damaged and the fourth was shut down. Close to<br />

Tibenham, one of the damaged engines stopped.<br />

With two engines out of commission and one-and-a-half pulling, the freedom of lowlevel<br />

maneuver was restricted. Then the remaining engine failed and the ship crashed in a<br />

field just outside of Diss, killing navigator FlO Daniel J. Dale. The plane broke in half and<br />

started burning.<br />

Krivik had been knocked unconscious in the crash. When he came to, he and


118 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

William Rand pulled everyone out of the burning wreckage. Henry Puto was saved from<br />

severe head wounds by his flak helmet. Nose gunner, S/Sgt. Clifford N. Stromberg, had a<br />

sprained ankle. Engineer, T/Sgt. Donald R. Bugalecki. had minor cuts on his legs when he<br />

was pulled from the plane. James Paul had a badly mangled leg and radio operator, T ISgt.<br />

John Cadden, was seriously wounded.<br />

AFTERMATH<br />

The trucks had picked up the remnants of the 44Sth Group. The survivors had now to<br />

report the "unreportable." They had to tell intelligence officers why the hardstands were,<br />

and would remain, so desperately empty. Thirty planes had disappeared as if they never<br />

existed.<br />

Ground crews were still expecting their returning planes but they heard no roar of<br />

approaching ships, except for stragglers returning to nearby fields. Contemplating the<br />

empty hardstands was especially agonizing for the crew chiefs.<br />

The survivors walked to the locker room to take their heavy flying gear off, the<br />

burden of their recent mission weighting heavily on their minds. The trip back to the hut<br />

seemed longer than ever, even ifthey were glad to see the Nissen again. In somber silence,<br />

each one fell on his sack, surrounded by empty bunks.<br />

During the fight, radio operator Robert Sims had thought his ship would be the next<br />

ship to fall, but at the time it really didn't bother him. Now that the mission was over, this<br />

probability scared him. Ten hours ago, his barrack housed 36 men but now there were 30<br />

empty bunks because the Uebelhoer crew was the only crew to come back. Paul Swofford<br />

and his navigator, Henry Dobek, were the only ones to make it back to their 12-man Nissen<br />

hut.<br />

When the survivors went to the chow hall for the evening meal, food had been<br />

prepared for 400 people, but only about two dozen arrived to eat. Disbelief again when<br />

they told the guys they were all that was left. The meal was a quiet and solemn one in the<br />

big empty mess hall. Noone was talking.<br />

The FRENCH crew<br />

After they dropped below the clouds, Herbert Schwartz and the waist gunners were


The Way Back<br />

119<br />

calling out all landmarks available. "Every small town we passed over was in ruins and<br />

every bridge was bombed right in the center, every building had been strafed, and bomb<br />

craters were a frequent sight.<br />

"Staff Sergeant David A. Greenly, our nose gunner, shouted over the intercom that<br />

there was an emergency airfield dead ahead. We circled the field and noticed a wrecked<br />

FW-190 on it but our pilot decided that the field was too short for a 8-24 to land.<br />

"We hadn't flown more than 10 miles when Tims came on the intercom and<br />

announced that as far as he could make out St. Quentin was only fifty miles to the left of<br />

our course. We knew that this was just a guess. After another 20 minutes, we spotted<br />

another airstrip with long runways. As we got closer, we saw about 75 Thunderbolts on the<br />

field so we knew it was a friendly one."<br />

The pilot told Tims and Greenly to rush to the flight deck. The three in the rear of<br />

the bomber braced themselves, ready for the crash. With its nose wheel stuck, the ship<br />

skidded in on its nose. Despite the leaking gas, they crash-landed safely at 13:26.<br />

Tail gunner Herbert Schwartz immediately got up from his position: "I was all set to<br />

jump out the waist window when the damn waist gun swung around and hit me in the back.<br />

1 managed to fmd enough strength to jump while the plane was still moving. 1 picked<br />

myself up and started to run as I was still afraid the ship was going to blow up any second.<br />

Greenly and Tims climbed out of the upper hatch, ran down the center of the top of the<br />

fuselage, and jumped off the plane while the ship was still slightly moving. All I had<br />

strength left for was to kiss the ground and thank God for getting me down safely.<br />

Wringing with respiration, I just laid down and everyone thought 1 had been injured.<br />

"The Colonel came running out to the ship and his first question was: 'How many<br />

men are injured?' We told him that no one was hurt and he stood there in amazement as<br />

our ship did look like it had been dragged out of a junk heap. Everyone rushed up to Lt.<br />

French and complimented him on his fme landing. "<br />

The big bird was riddled with hundreds of bullet holes, which chewed up the tail<br />

assembly. One shell had entered the bottom ofthe ship, went through bulkheads and out by<br />

the APU without exploding. Two more went through the right wing into the main tank, but<br />

didn't explode. The No.1 engine was put out of commission by four shells and one left a<br />

hole in the aitfoil big enough for a man to crawl through.


120 CRUE1.J<strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Even though their base had just been made operational, the people there did their<br />

best to feed and help the lucky crew. After chatting with the personnel of the field, a truck<br />

picked them up and took them to chow. That day, even army chow tasted good although<br />

most ofthe men were too excited to eat very much.<br />

After dinner, Fiske, Huddlesmn, and Schwartz got radio equipment from a B-26<br />

sitting off the runway and called Tibenham. They told them they were safe and to make<br />

sure that no one bothered their personal belongings and particularly the rations of candy,<br />

cigarettes, etc.<br />

The HEITZ crew<br />

The pilots were heading for an airfield at Brussels but Bugs Bunny could not<br />

maintain enough altitude to reach it. They came across a small airfield about 15 miles east<br />

of Brussels and decided to try a landing.<br />

The hydraulic system was out so the manual operation procedure had to be followed.<br />

Copilot Harold Vedera placed the landing gear control lever in "DOWN" position and held<br />

it there. Radio operator Fabian Mack assisted the inexperienced substitute engineer to<br />

complete the procedure. They both went to the bomb bay where the emergency crank was<br />

located, on the forward side of the front spar. While standing on the extreme forward end<br />

of the bomb bay catwalk, one of them reached for the red handle and turned it<br />

approximately 30 turns clockwise, until the main gear was down and locked. The landing<br />

gear indicator light turned on in the pilot's instrument panel, but as an added precaution,<br />

pilot and copilot looked out to check both gears visually.<br />

Mack tied a chute to each waist gun mount and tossed them out as they were about<br />

to touch runway: "It was perfect timing as plane came to a stop in approximately 500 feet.<br />

With the aid of a Belgian farmer on the scene I took three wounded to a hospital in a small<br />

community nearby.<br />

"The nuns were very helpful and secured a local doctor to help. Unfortunately, Sgt<br />

Louis Ochevsky died a few hours later. The doctor offered to take me to the British at<br />

Brussels airfield for more aid for the wounded. The British took care of the wounded and<br />

Ochevsky's body at a large Brussels hospital. They also arranged a flight back to<br />

Tibenham for us,"


The Way Back<br />

121<br />

MORE AFTERMATH<br />

Lieutenant Donald Whitefield had been told to clean up and report to Wing<br />

Headquarters that evening for a critique. When the six officers arrived, they were escorted<br />

into a room with a bar: "A white-coated English batman told us this was Jimmy Stewart's<br />

private bar, and we were welcome to all the drinks we wanted. Interestingly enough, the<br />

batman told us that the bar cost Jimmy Stewart more per month than his salary as a<br />

Lieutenant Colonel.<br />

"We were called into a large briefing room, and on the platfonn were two Generals<br />

and some lower ranks.<br />

"After a number of people made various reports, I was asked to tell them where I<br />

thought we bombed. The group navigator had my records and so this shaky little first<br />

lieutenant had to stand in front of all that brass and say that as I remembered, we were<br />

approximately 20 miles beyond the primary of Kassel, four minutes beyond my ETA to<br />

drop. I sat down and felt like I had goofed and would be cleaning the latrines for the rest of<br />

the war.<br />

"Then the general asked the fighter group representative, 'Where were you when you<br />

heard the call for Little Friends?'<br />

"This cocky Major stood and reported that his group was sweeping the deck. All at<br />

once, parts and parachutes were all over the place.<br />

"The General asked, 'What did you do?'<br />

"The Major replied, 'We got the hell out of there! ,<br />

"I think if I had had my .45 I would have shot him!<br />

"At the end of the critique a Lieutenant Colonel came up to me and said, 'Lieutenant,<br />

your charts had you right on the target.' The ship that came back with us was the camera<br />

ship and a break in the clouds allowed a picture of where the bombs had dropped so they<br />

knew my report from memory was accurate.<br />

"The group navigator had left me out there high and dry to make a report when he<br />

could have told me it had checked out to be accurate."<br />

The DEWEY crew


122 CRUhL<strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

At dusk, a B-24 with green tail and white horizontal stripe markings (491 st BG)<br />

landed at Tibenham: the Dewey crew was back home. The RAF had given them another<br />

group's plane. While in Manston, they didn't see any other 44S th BG survivors, even<br />

though the Mercer crew had landed there too. That emergency base was crowded with<br />

planes arriving every few minutes, in bad shape, with wounded and dead on board. In the<br />

confusion, they never made contact. At Tibenham, no one came to meet the Dewey crew,<br />

and they didn't have any interrogation from intelligence that night.<br />

Later that evening, Dewey was visited in his hut by Lt. Keith Frost. They had gone<br />

through crew training together at Tonopah, Nevada. He had made a crash landing at<br />

Manston a few days before, with his decapitated bombardier. He had aborted today's<br />

mission and told Dewey he was resigning from flying, turning in his wings and quitting<br />

combat.<br />

The FRENCH crew<br />

That evening French, Cochran, and Robert Tims were standing the bar of the fighter<br />

base officers' quarters - a handsome French chateau a few miles from Reims.<br />

"I wonder how many planes got back to England," said Tims. "I saw only three<br />

ahead of us and one below us to the right at the end. The group must have lost over half of<br />

them."<br />

French agreed that the other squadrons were hit as hard as they were.<br />

Cochran was glad that Fiske had contacted the base. He was not happy at the<br />

thought that the guys had started picking up his clothes, particularly his precious battlejacket.<br />

"I hope MacGregor was as lucky as we - or had time to bailout anyway."<br />

"Give us three scotch and sodas, please," Tims asked the bartender.<br />

He raised his glass: "Here is to the end of your tour, boys."<br />

In the meantime, it was hard for the enlisted men of the French crew to find some<br />

rest as many of the men stationed at the base came out that evening to ask them questions.<br />

They asked Herbert Schwartz if he had been scared. "All I could say was that 1 had thought<br />

I had to use the latrine after we crashed but when I got there, all 1 did was wipe! Then I<br />

developed a sudden headache and went inside the ship to try to get some rest. However I


The Way Back<br />

123<br />

could not sleep. A.t 00:30 that night the MPs came out in a jeep and wanted us to join them<br />

for some coffee and rolls in their tent which we did. Everyone treated us like kings, the CO<br />

even offered us a jeep to go into Reims and though I was very anxious to go, I was not quite<br />

up to it. After our visit with the MPs, we were driven back to our ship where we tried to<br />

get some sleep."


·....•................•......••............•••..............•....•..........•..........•....••.....•..........•.••.. <br />

o<br />

Bremen<br />

o Osnabrock<br />

Antwerpen<br />

O~. Heitz<br />

o '-----'<br />

Brussels<br />

o Liege<br />

Kassel<br />

cr<br />

r ~=:;:-;:::===_-&Reims<br />

French ~<br />

o<br />

Saarbrucken<br />

•............. _.........•.........•.......••........•.....•••...•....•.....••.•..•..........•••....•............•.••....•.......• <br />

The Bruland crew bailed out<br />

Hautman and reynolds ships were shot down by light flak<br />

French and Hunter belly landed<br />

Heitz, Mercer and Dewey landed on their wheels<br />

Krivik crashed close by Tibenham airfield<br />

The trail of wrecks left by the remnants of the 445th BG <br />

Notice how far the French crew is from the others


The Aftermath<br />

125<br />

Chapter 6 <br />

THE DAY AFTER <br />

In Tibenham, the day started just as the day before, orderlies had done their wake-up<br />

job, sending anxious ainnen to the briefmg room. There, they were told that the 445 tb BG<br />

was returning to Kassel! That was enough to scare hell out of the seasoned veterans. Ten<br />

planes took off, including Patty Girl, the only plane from the previous day's mission that<br />

was airworthy. This ten-ship bomb group was led by Lt. P. D. Riblet Jr. with Capt. Rowe<br />

D. Bowen Jr. (Executive officer of the 70l 5t Squadron) acting as the Conunand Pilot.<br />

As the other survivors did, Patty Girl's regular crew remained on base. They sat<br />

quietly and watched the cleaning team inventory and pack the belongings of those who had<br />

not returned. The ground personnel emptied the lockers and rolled up blankets and covers.<br />

It was the ultimate sign that a roonunate was gone.<br />

Lieutenant Glen Lowe of the 702 nd Sqd. was waiting for transport back to the Zone<br />

Of Interior (ZOI). He had fmished his tour earlier in September. His original bombardier,<br />

Lt. Ira Weinstein, was MIA with Donald's crew. Lowe helped to sanitize the lives of the<br />

missing airmen. As the personal belongings were sent back to the States, the custom was to<br />

sort through them so nothing embarrassing would go home, such as a married man's letters<br />

from a British girlfriend.<br />

The FRENCH crew<br />

After breakfast, tail gunner Herbert Schwartz and his friends proceeded to look<br />

around the base which was a station for the Luftwaffe. "There were many wrecked FW­<br />

190s (this was my frrst real close look at the fighter), Me-109s and Heinkel 111s. We<br />

picked up a few souvenirs. During the morning, we saw two operational missions take off.<br />

"This particular group of P-47s were the boys who had already gone out in support<br />

of General Patton's ground forces. General Patton had rewarded them with champagne,<br />

cognac, etc., which they really did appreciate as these beverages originally belonged to the<br />

Germans.<br />

"Our officers returned from the chateau with enough champagne and other hard


126 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

beverages to float a battleship.<br />

"At 10:00, we saw a B-24 from the 96 th wing circling the field. He was sent over to<br />

see the extent of the damage done to our aircraft but he had no orders to return us to Merry<br />

Ole England. After much persuasion, he decided to take us back in England. Before we<br />

took off, we got well acquainted with this crew and found out that the pilot was just a<br />

rookie, having never flown combat, and also that his NO.3 engine was acting up. We all<br />

got together in a huddle and asked Lt. French if he would fly as copilot on our trip back to<br />

England as we wanted to feel as safe as possible."<br />

The MERCER crew<br />

It was only upon their return to Tibenham about noon that pilot Jackson Mercer and<br />

his crew learned the gory details. "And also that we had not hit our assigned target of<br />

Kassel but dropped our bombs about 30 miles NE, close to the town of Gottingen!"<br />

The maintenance record of the Mercer ship, sent from the Manston Repair Depot,<br />

was testimony to the ferocity of the fight that took place over Germany the day before. It<br />

covered more than six full pages - over 300 items.<br />

There were over 275 shrapnel holes in the waist and tail sections (90 percent on the<br />

left side), and damage to approximately 45 percent of the stringers in the waist. Shrapnel<br />

also punctured both main tires. There was a 20-mm dud shell in the No.2 gas tank. One of<br />

the propeller blades on the No.2 engine had a 6-in. x Yz-in. sliver off its trailing edge and<br />

had to be replaced. There were severed rudder cables and shattered elevator cables. In the<br />

bomb bay, the gasoline transfer system and gas lines were damaged and the left bomb bay<br />

door had to be replaced. Both the left vertical stabilizer and rudder and the left horizontal<br />

stabilizer and elevator had to be replaced.<br />

The Mercer crew was credited with five kills and two probables, meaning that the<br />

Germans were not the only ones doing the shooting - and hitting.<br />

The FRENCH crew<br />

At 16:00, the French crew got back to base. The two replacement gunners had<br />

survived their eventful replacement. Sergeant Charles Huddlestun heard the group had lost


The Aftermath<br />

127<br />

33 out of39 (sic): "All the guys in the hut were sweating me out and old Rose had tears in<br />

his eyes when I came in."<br />

Herbert Schwartz decided he would try his very best to never return to flight status<br />

agam.<br />

The hazards inherent in reassignments had taken its toll of close friends. Coming<br />

back from a three-day pass, pilot Prescott W. Coleman looked for his former navigator, Lt.<br />

John Dent. "Jack hailed from Hollywood, California and epitomized everything that I was<br />

raised to disdain. He drank, he womanized, he expressed himself in colorfully libidinous<br />

terms and he worried about nothing. Furthermore, he was short, bounced on the balls of his<br />

feet when he walked and found humor everywhere. Jack and I spent a lot of time together,<br />

perhaps on the basis that opposites attract. We baited each other unmercifully but mostly<br />

without rancor."<br />

"You don't have to worry - nothing ever happens when I am along," Jack Dent had<br />

said to bombardier Malcom MacGregor. Both went down with Fort Worth Maid and Jack<br />

died. After all, he was half right, MacGregor reached the ground alive.<br />

Second Lt. John J. Becker was also the victim of bad luck. He was the original<br />

bombardier of the Dewey crew, but died when the Walther crew went down while he was<br />

assigned to it.<br />

Staff Sergeant Ferdinand K. Flach, nose turret gunner on the Smith crew, and S/Sgt.<br />

Lee R. J. Huffman, were assigned for this mission to the Bruland crew. Both parachuted<br />

safely from Bruland's airplane and both were shot to death by German military personnel.<br />

The original crews ofboth men made it back.<br />

In part because of combat losses, the combat crews did not get very close to those<br />

outside their own crew. After a while, veterans learned not to have any really close friends.<br />

It was easier that way. Though they usually recognized people by sight. It seemed to those<br />

who didn't fly that fateful day that those who were not on the base were all MIA. So it was<br />

a shock, on their return. to someone who had been on leave. Tail gunner Tom North<br />

walked into his barrack to catch a cleaning party stripping his bunk. It was as if they were<br />

seeing a ghost. Needless to say he straightened them out in no uncertain tenns.<br />

Some survivors let off a little steam on the new crews which were quickly<br />

dispatched to rebuild the 445 th . Lieutenant Donald Whitefield put on his .45 and steel


128 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

/<br />

helmet to give them a real serious scenario on how rough things were.<br />

Yesterday, 25 crews had experienced fully just how rough war could be. One<br />

hundred and fifteen young Americans had paid the highest price. The Germans caught<br />

most of the others almost immediately. Seven airmen were murdered, including two<br />

immediately after landing. On the morning of September 28 th , only a handful of them had<br />

evaded capture.<br />

INDIVIDUAL STORIES<br />

William Bruce: "About daylight the officers returned and asked me the same<br />

questions over and over - same response from me. Finally one of them hit me in the jaw<br />

with a pistol butt - fracturing it. "<br />

Peter Belitsos: "At daybreak.1 heard a rifle shot or maybe two which put some<br />

ominous thoughts into my mind. Soon I was taken into a living room/dining room area at<br />

the house in which there were several people who apparently wanted a look at the enemy.<br />

"An official with his trapping of office around his neck was present. Also present<br />

was a German soldier in a spit-and-polish Afrika Korps uniform with two complete useless<br />

legs standing on crutches. There was a general gawking, and low conversation but not a<br />

single word was addressed to me. There was a bowl of fruit on the table which I couldn't<br />

help looking at and a kindly looking women about my mother's age gave me an apple. It<br />

was the first food I had eaten since breakfast the day before. Shortly after a Wehrmacht<br />

non-com with a Hitler mustache came in and escorted me outside where I joined a detail<br />

guarding about four other newly made paws, each carrying parachutes. We were<br />

forbidden to speak and were marched to the train station."<br />

John Lemons: (John and other men carried the wounded men on stretchers to a train<br />

station a short distance away). "As we proceeded to the station, the local crowds yelled and<br />

screamed at us. They called us 'Chicago gangsters', 'terrorfiiegers', 'murderers', and other<br />

names we could not distinguish."<br />

Frank Plesa: (Frank Plesa was among those carried on stretchers). "We waited for<br />

several hours, with civilians looking and walking around us. I was scared at the way they<br />

acted. One man looked me over, spat in my face and left. "


The Aftermath<br />

129<br />

Raymond Ray: (A prisoner was brought in and left sitting on a chair, close by Ray's<br />

stretcher. He was badly burned on the face.) "I recognized him by a ring on his fmger as<br />

Wilbur E. Brown, our top turret gunner. I spoke to him and he asked if I was hurt. I told<br />

him yes but I was not sure how serious."<br />

Frank J. Bertram: (A group of Hitler Youth spotted Bertram and picked him up and<br />

took him to a first interrogation in Friedlos). "I was interrogated by a Doctor Braun. He<br />

was 45 years old and spoke perfect English. We discussed the war and both agreed it was a<br />

shame but we didn't come to any political argwnent at all. I said that all I could do was<br />

give my name, my rank and serial number and he said that was fme. Then they shuffied me<br />

into a hospital.<br />

"My back was killing me. And there were those guys lined up, apparently German<br />

inductees. Oh my God, I thought, these poor old guys were in their fifties, sixties. They<br />

were coming from the bottom of the barrel.<br />

"A doctor was speaking English and checked me out. He saw nothing too serious<br />

about my feet.<br />

"He asked, 'You want to see how your back looks like?'<br />

"I said, 'sure.'<br />

"So he got a mirror and I nearly fainted! My back was solid black from halfway up,<br />

just as black as the ace of spades. This scared me more than anything.<br />

"My God, I am dead,' I said. 'They gonna bury me. "<br />

"He said that all he could do was to give me heat treatment. He was very<br />

methodical, not friendly, not a lot of animosity. He gave it to me and I felt great for about<br />

half an hour."<br />

Sammy Weiner: (After an early questioning by the Commandant, Weiner received a<br />

ration of black bread and an inch square of margarine and Limburger cheese.) "I ate<br />

ravenously not giving a thought to my next meal. Then we were hustled to a bomb shelter<br />

during a bombing raid on the nearby village. Twelve other Americans had arrived before<br />

us. The raid appeared to be an everyday occurrence for the Jerry's reaction was unusually<br />

calm to the shattering din of bombs.<br />

"An hour after the all-clear signal sounded, we were hauled in army trucks to the<br />

railroad station of the bombarded village. The raid had been a disastrous one and the


130 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

civilians now bitter and revengeful, shouted vituperously at us. Some even threw stones.<br />

There was an hour's wait on the railroad platform with five guards standing a close watch.<br />

They presently herded us into two small compartments of a waiting train. We were twenty<br />

in all, counting the guards."<br />

Milton Lee: (After a long sleepless night, interrogation commenced for Lee, but it<br />

didn't last long.) "Maybe my interrogator was tired. 1 was returned quickly to my cell and<br />

was fed my frrst meal, some very poor German food which was not fit for a pig.<br />

"Later that day, we were sent to a train station. Before boarding the train, 1 saw our<br />

pilot, navigator and bombardier. They inquired as to the rest of the crew. I could not tell<br />

them of anyone except Bill. 1 was informed that my co-pilot was killed by civilians. The<br />

officers and enlisted men were then separated. It was in the evening hours that we were<br />

loaded into cattle cars, which held about 150 men. It was extremely crowded with standing<br />

room only. Of course, there was no water or food. The cattle cars had not been cleaned of<br />

the cattle excrement so, as you might well imagine, the stench was atrocious."<br />

Howard Boldt: "Somewhere around 10.00 a.m., a small reconnaissance plane came<br />

over very close but I could not see it. It must have spotted my chute in the tree. More than<br />

four hours later, at approximately 02:30 p.m., 1 heard a twig snap. I raised up and about<br />

fifty feet in front of me was a German soldier with a machine gun. He hollered something<br />

that I did not understand but I put my hands up as that appeared to be a good idea. He then<br />

yelled: 'Pistol!'<br />

"I shook my head as I did not have any. At this time, five more soldiers came out of<br />

the bushes .. They came up and checked to make sure that I did not have any weapon and<br />

then everybody seemed to relax. They took a look at my dogtags and my name, Boldt,<br />

which was German. My hair was very blond and my eyes blue. They looked at me with,<br />

'Why the hell are you fighting on that side?'<br />

"Then they searched me. The first thing they pulled from my pocket was the lacetrimmed<br />

garter that my wife had given me. They must have thought that a girl friend had<br />

given it to me. That really got their attention. Then they pulled out my daughter's booties<br />

that my wife had sent me, this seemed to make an impression on the one in charge. That<br />

put me down as a family man and from then on we got along very well.<br />

"The soldier in charge appeared to be well-educated and he said something that


The Aftermath<br />

131<br />

sounded like cigarettes. I thought that he wanted mine but I had smoked them all up. I<br />

tossed the empty pack toward him. He pulled a cigarette from his pack and put it in my<br />

mouth and lit it for me. This was a real surprise and I immediately became suspicious but<br />

he happened to be a nice guy. Again, I was very lucky.<br />

"The soldiers laid their guns down about eight feet from me and went to get my<br />

chute down from the tree. I guess that they decided I was in no condition to try anything<br />

and they were right. They got my chute down. I had wished that I could have destroyed<br />

my chute but of course that was impossible. The soldier in charge came over with my<br />

emergency kit and wanted to give me a shot of morphine that was in it. I did not want it. I<br />

wanted to keep a clear head in case I would be interrogated. I fmally convinced him that I<br />

did not need it.<br />

"Then they got two limbs and used the lines from my chutes to go across to make a<br />

stretcher. Then they went down the seams on my chute and completely dismantled it.<br />

They did exactly what I had wanted to do even if I could not understand why. Then they<br />

put me in the center of the stretcher. I was carried for quite some distance and then placed<br />

on a small hand drawn wagon. They pulled me the rest ofthe way into a small village.<br />

"As we entered, I noticed some men working on the rail line repairing some bomb<br />

damage. There did not seem to be many people on the street but I was wondering what<br />

their reaction might be. I had heard that the civilians were pretty rough, and especially with<br />

ainnen. German newspapers published propaganda that we were all gangsters and were let<br />

out ofprison to bomb women and children.<br />

"I raised up on one arm to see who was going to throw the fITst rock just as a young<br />

girl was walking across the street. They thought that I had raised up to look at her and this<br />

one pulled out the booties and he shook his fmger at me with a grin. I could not help but<br />

grin also, as that was the last thing on my mind. This girl was wearing a blouse of<br />

parachute silk and that was the reason these guys cut up my chute. If they brought it in<br />

intact they probably would not have been able to keep it but if it was in pieces then it was<br />

theirs. That silk was very valuable; a real item with the German girls who used this for<br />

blouses, etc.<br />

"I was taken to a small clinic or doctor's office. The doctor was looking very much<br />

like one of my uncles - large head with a burr haircut, no neck and looked pretty tough.


132 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Looks were deceiving as he was very nice. In fact I became very suspicious but he did not<br />

ask questions although he knew a little English. He started picking fragments out of my left<br />

leg with his fmgeTs as some were close to the surface.<br />

"After looking for a few minutes, he turned and said: 'For you, der var ist over.'<br />

"I replied, 'I guess you are right.'<br />

"He put metal splints on both legs and wrapped them with a sort of crepe paper.<br />

This was about like the crepe paper that we used at Christmas for decorations except that it<br />

was white. He knew very little English but it was enough to make himself understood. He<br />

came over with a syringe to give me a shot. I told him that I did not want or need any. I<br />

was figuring that sooner or later I would be interrogated and I did not want to be drowsy.<br />

He said that I was going to get it anyway and I did.<br />

"I remember them putting me in an Army ambulance and giving me a piece of black<br />

bread with some ersatz margarine on it. I took one bite but I could not stomach it. It really<br />

tasted bad. About that time the shot took effect and I woke up on a stretcher on the floor in<br />

a train depot. There were civilians all around me but there was nothing said to me nor did<br />

they threaten in any way. There were two soldiers with me and I asked for some 'wasser.'<br />

Instead of water, they brought me a cup of ersatz coffee. This was burnt or roasted barley.<br />

I drank it as I was very thirsty but I did not like it. Then I passed out again.<br />

"I next woke up in the baggage car of a train with my two guards. I looked around<br />

and saw a deer hanging in there. Then I passed out again and when I woke up I was in the<br />

courtyard of a large building. A German officer dressed in a light tan uniform with a red<br />

arm band came over and started asking questions. I knew that I could not think too straight<br />

so I closed my eyes and pretended to pass out and I really did.<br />

"The next time I woke up (I was) on the operating table in this hospital. It seemed<br />

that there was a doctor and a couple of nurses, dressed similar to catholic nuns. The doctor<br />

was taking some more metal from my left leg. I was then placed on a gurney and wheeled<br />

into the hallway for the night. I asked a nurse for some water and was surprised at her<br />

bringing it and smiling at me. "<br />

Ralph Pearson: "The German doctors disinfected my whole face, covering me with<br />

bandages like a mummy. I had second and third-degree burns all over my face. I couldn't<br />

talk but there was a small breathing hole for my mouth and nose, and slit for eyes. The


The Aftermath<br />

133<br />

most I could eat were bread crumbs that I could push through the mouth hole. It was lucky<br />

that I had flung off my oxygen mask and helmet, otherwise they would have probably fused<br />

to my skin in the fife."<br />

Sammy Weiner: (After eleven weary hours, the train arrived at Frankfort.) "On a<br />

siding we saw forty-five locomotives put out of commission by air strafmg. What a<br />

pleasant sight to our sore eyes! What a relief it was to stretch one's legs again and breathe<br />

deeply of fresh air. By now 1 felt I was the dirtiest, thirstiest, and most hungry man alive.<br />

But most of all, 1 longed for a cigarette. Here we received a cup of German soup.<br />

"I had the misfortune of being the last one to board the train accompanied by two<br />

surly guards. The mad scramble for space had begun when the air raid sirens sounded, and<br />

we were forced to change again to another train on a different track. There just wasn't any<br />

space left in either of the two compartments allotted us, so 1 was pushed along to a small<br />

section where I sat with one guard along side of me, and the other sitting directly in front,<br />

both holding rifles across their knees.<br />

"I made up my mind right then and there that I didn't like these two Jerrys or the<br />

malevolent glances they bestowed upon me. Almost immediately they began talking<br />

between themselves, clucking their lips, and shaking their heads tragically, pointing at the<br />

skeleton frames of fifteen and sixteen story apartment buildings stretching into the skies.<br />

"One guard turned on me balefully, saying: 'Why Americaners come here to kill our<br />

women and children?' 'Why,' the other kept repeating.<br />

"Boldly, 1 decided to counter with a question. 'What about your destruction of<br />

England, Czechoslovakia, Poland, and other countries?'"<br />

"Whether or not they actually understood what I had said, I did not know, but they<br />

continued to mutter between themselves at each new sight. I eyed them cautiously. I would<br />

not have a Chinaman's chance if they decided to do away with me. I spent three of the<br />

longest hours of my life sitting in that tiny section with the two guards - three hours of<br />

suspenseful watching and waiting. My face was a veiled mask and I said nothing."<br />

Frank Plesa: "We finally got our train and in several hours we were taken to<br />

Obermassfeld (allied P.O.W. hospital near Meiningen.) Australian, British, Canadian, and<br />

New-Zealand doctors who were captured at Dunkirk, with American Red Cross aid in<br />

drugs, bandages, and food took care of us. They stitched up my chest wound with a rubber


134 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

tube implanted inside for drug injections. They cut and shaved my head so the burn blisters<br />

wouldn't become infected. The burns were the most painful and I felt like I was on fIre. I<br />

thought it would kill me. I saw one Jewish airman from our group who had a burned face<br />

from his oxygen mask flash back from a shell. I saw several others with broken legs and<br />

many others all shot up like me. What mercy war has."<br />

Howard Boldt: "I did not remember waking until he arrived at Obermassfeld. They<br />

must have given me more shots although I did not remember getting them. I had been on a<br />

train and was being carried on a stretcher by British soldiers. I did not know if they were<br />

actually British or not. I had heard that the Germans used all sorts of ploys and I was<br />

suspicious of everyone. They wanted to know the latest news but I would not say anything.<br />

"I was taken into this building which turned out to be the main orthopedic hospital,<br />

Stalag IX-C. I was left in a very small room and a British officer came in. He asked me if I<br />

had a watch, ring or anything of value. When I nodded yes, he told me to let him have<br />

them as I would be searched by soldiers in a moment. I gave them to him as I felt that he<br />

could have taken them if he had wanted. He had no sooner put it in his pocket than two<br />

German soldiers came in and the fIrst thing they looked for was my watch. They were<br />

disappointed that I did not have one and after a quick search, left the room.<br />

"This officer then gave my watch, wedding ring, and a gold identifIcation bracelet<br />

back and told me that I could put them back on as I would not be searched again. I really<br />

became suspicious as I thought that he was an imposter and had gone through that to gain<br />

my confIdence. He also wanted to know the latest news, but I told him that I could not<br />

remember what had happened, especially the day that I was shot down. I really could not<br />

have told too much anyway as everything becomes very hazy.<br />

"I was waiting outside the operating room when a doctor came to me. "I am Captain<br />

Barling. Mister, it looks like we will have to amputate your left leg to save your life, is that<br />

OK?"<br />

"I told him to do whatever he had to. It did not sound like I had much of a choice.<br />

They did not amputate but after the operation I was placed in a room with another fellow.<br />

They left an orderly with us and told him to let them know when we died. I woke up and<br />

told him that I was thirsty. He bribed a German guard and got me several bottles of beer. I<br />

never was much of a drinker but he said that I drank them one after the other. I found out


The Aftermath<br />

135<br />

later that I had a streptococci infection. Who knows, maybe the beer had some effect but I<br />

think that I was being looked after by a power greater than that. The other fellow did not<br />

make it."<br />

William Bruce: "We spent days on the train before arriving at Frankfort for two<br />

more days of intensive interrogation. By this time I had become almost totally paralyzed<br />

and was black and blue all over. The Germans fmally gave up. At Obermassfeld, a doctor<br />

fmally examined me. I was told that my right pelvis was broken, my right shoulder badly<br />

damaged, and that I would not ever walk again or use my right arm. "<br />

Glen McCormick: "After being loose for several days, I started gaining confidence.<br />

I had been walking in the daytime. I was in heavy forest and walked in fire lanes and had<br />

not seen anyone all day long. I came to a valley containing a small village (Weiterode). To<br />

get a closer look to decide how I would cross the valley after dark, I was working my way<br />

closer. I came to a clearing and, rather than taking the long way around in the woods, I<br />

started across the clearing. I had not gone more than 50 feet or so when someone shouted at<br />

me. Discretion won out over valor and I stopped. A soldier and a civilian came up to me.<br />

The civilian had a bicycle with a rack of some sort built on it. I suspect that they were in<br />

the woods to get them a deer.<br />

"On the road, our little party was joined by a horse-drawn wagon full ofpotatoes - a<br />

woman was driving the wagon and her son was with her. The bay was about 12, I would<br />

guess, and he was practicing his English on me. He quizzed me on everything.<br />

"When we got to Weiterode, the only ones left of the little group was me and the<br />

soldier. He took me to the burgermeister's home where they searched me for the frrst time.<br />

I was taken to the local jail where I spent my first night in captivity. There was a co-pilot<br />

there from the 445th bomb group who had an injured hip and he had been in that cell for<br />

many days. He was glad to see me!"


137<br />

EPILOGUE <br />

Christmas 1944 came and the survivors of the September 2ih mission were still<br />

prisoners in Germany. The allies were winning the war but not as fast as the top brass had<br />

expected. In Belgium, some little towns were becoming famous, the foremost being<br />

Bastogne. On New Year's Day, 1,000 Me-109s and FW-190s swept over Belgian and<br />

Dutch airfields. The war was winding down, but sti11 not over.<br />

When they began their time as POWs, some men of the 445 th Group and Polish<br />

paratroopers were kept in the same transit camp. It took five minutes to send the aviators<br />

there. It had taken five years for the Polish soldiers to end up there. Like the Australian<br />

doctor captured four years before in Dunkirk, these prisoners showed the young Americans<br />

the measure of how long the war had been.<br />

When he invaded Poland in September 1939, Hitler asked: "Who would like to die<br />

for DantzigT' Since then, the world was set gradually on fire. War grew bigger and<br />

bigger, and 35 million people had died for Dantzig!<br />

The best of America's sons went overseas, many died far away from their country.<br />

Some ended up in Germany where they met the sons of Poland, the first country crushed by<br />

the Nazi war machine. The Polish paratroopers had been involved in a huge operation<br />

(Market-Garden) to end the conflict that started in their country. The Polish were treated<br />

badly by the Germans and the Americans experienced first-hand the incredible universe of<br />

the Third Reich. In having their personal freedoms taken, they also endured mental<br />

anguish, fear, as well as hunger and cold. They were not liberated until late April or May<br />

1945.<br />

In war tenns, the losses suffered by Eighth Air Force on September 2ih were<br />

acceptable, though the figures could not tell the overall story of those dramatic events lived<br />

out by members of the 445 th Bomb Group.<br />

The survivors who became POWs were at least alive to tell of their experiences.<br />

They had been very close to that extremely thin boundary between success and disaster, life<br />

and death during a war. Some of the misfortunes of war are part of the responsibilities of<br />

individuals, but so many events are not, that surviving a war is the greatest victory of all.


138 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

The survIvors of the Kassel mission deserve the same measure of respect and<br />

devotion as their fallen comrades. It is right to honor those who have fallen with flowers<br />

and prayers at their grave site, but we must remember those who are still with us and have<br />

yet to jom their fallen comrades.<br />

This is my way of thanking them for my present freedom.


Annexe I: The Crews<br />

139<br />

COMBAT CREW POSITIONS<br />

COMBAT CREW POSITIONS<br />

p Pilot RO Ftadio Operator<br />

CoP Command Pilot LWG Left Waist Gunner<br />

DCoP Deputy Command Pilot RWG Right Waist gllnner<br />

Copilot TG Tail gllnner<br />

Navigator<br />

Bombardier<br />

COMBAT CASUALTIES<br />

NG Nose Turret Gunner KIA Killed In Action<br />

DRN Dead Reckoning Navi12;ator KCIV Killed 1?Y Civilians<br />

PFFN Mickey (PFF) Navigator KSOL Killed by Soldier<br />

E Engineer KPOL Killed by Police<br />

E/TTG Engineer/Top Turret Gunner MIA Missing In Action<br />

Ph/Obs I Photo Observer POW Prisoner OfWar<br />

I~<br />

All of the men who took part in this mission, the planes they flew, the position of those planes<br />

in the fonnation, the positions of the men in those planes, their ranks, and their fates are<br />

indicated here. Those planes with a band of reverse printing (a black bar) are the planes lost.<br />

~UADR~~~;:BS-Lea~ <br />

Capt. John H.CHILTON P KIA<br />

Maj. Donald W.McCOY CoP KIA<br />

2nd Lt. Harold E. SUTHERLAND CP KlA<br />

1 st Lt. Ftaymond E. ISCHE DRN KlA<br />

2nd Lt. Cloys V. JOHNSON PFFN POW<br />

2nd Lt. Carlton V. HUDSON N POW<br />

1st Lt. Parker S. TREFETHEN B POW<br />

S/Sgt Robert E. SHAY TTG KIA<br />

T/Sgt Howard L. STURDY E POW<br />

T/Sgt William J. SLOANE RO POW<br />

S/Sgt Merle R. BRIGGS G POW<br />

S/Sgt Glen S. McCORMICK G POW<br />

S/Sgt Donald W. MILLS TG POW<br />

Aircraft #81 O-J Terrible Terry's Terror<br />

Aircraft #547-E, deputy lead ship<br />

1 st Lt. William F. HUNTER P Capt Web L. UEBELHOER P<br />

2nd Lt. Lee D. FERRYMAN CP 1st Lt. William B. HART CP<br />

2nd Lt. George E. SMITH N Capt James GRAHAM DCoP<br />

2nd Lt. Robert M. KEAMS B 1 st Lt. Donald D. WHITEFIELD N<br />

S/Sgt Robert H. RATCHFORD E 2nd Lt. James P. W. FLUHR N<br />

Sgt Robert W. SARBER TTG 2nd Lt. Mervin V. SCHEU DRN<br />

S/Sgt Tom G. SPERA Ph/Obs 1 st Lt. Arthur KUGEL B<br />

S/Sgt Jake S. MONZINGO RO T/Sgt Joseph <strong>SK</strong>OMRO E<br />

S/Sgt Joseph K. SELSER L WG S/Sgt John C SHIN<strong>SK</strong>E G<br />

S/Sgt Robert J. CANNON RWG T/Sgt Robert L. SIMS RO<br />

S/Sgt Fred C SCHAFFER TG S/Sgt Santos C. CABRAL LWG<br />

S/Sgt Haigh MESCROBIAN RWG<br />

S/Sgt John S. HUBICZ<br />

TG


140 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

LEAD SQD 700 TH BS - Second element<br />

Aircraft #210-U Bugs Bunny<br />

1 st Lt. Raymond V. HEITZ P<br />

2nd Lt. Harold T. VEDERA CP<br />

2nd Lt. Edward J. DRAKE B<br />

2nd Lt. John F. LEARY<br />

N<br />

? E/TTG<br />

T/Sgt Fabian S. MACK<br />

RO<br />

S/Sgt Louis OCHEV<strong>SK</strong>Y LWG KIA<br />

S/Sgt Elroy W. PALM<br />

RWG<br />

S/Sgt Maynard B. WATSON TG<br />

2nd Lt. Robert N. HANSEN P KIA<br />

2nd Lt. Herbert C. BRIDGES Jf.<br />

2nd Lt. Porter M. PILE<br />

2nd Lt. John C. WOODLEY<br />

T/Sgt Charles C. PALMER Jr.<br />

T/Sgt James M. TRIPLETT<br />

S/Sgt Elwyn 1. HORNSBY<br />

S/Sgt S. E. HOWELL Jr.<br />

S/Sgt Ralph H. BODE<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

B<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

RWG<br />

TG<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

1st Lt. Edward T. HAUTMAN<br />

2nd Lt. Carroll G. SNIDOW<br />

2nd Lt. Maynard L. JONES<br />

S/Sgt Dale C. MAUPIN<br />

T/Sgt Thomas W. LAND<br />

T/Sgt Harold W. GIESLER<br />

TISgt Orvel G. HOWE<br />

S/Sgt John A. TARBERT<br />

S/Sgt Gordon F. WALDRON<br />

P <br />

CP <br />

N <br />

NG <br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

RWG<br />

TG<br />

MIA<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

Lt Ralph H. PEARSON<br />

2nd Lt. Nelson L. DIMICK<br />

2nd Lt. Arthur E. STEARNS<br />

FlO Henry J. HENRIKSON<br />

T/Sgt Robert D. JOHNSON<br />

T/Sgt Doyle L. O'KEEFE<br />

S/Sgt John M. LOVING<br />

S/Sgt Harry F. TACHOV<strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

S/Sgt Dwight F. GALYON<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

B<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

RWG<br />

TG<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

1 st Lt. Raphael E. CARROW<br />

2nd Lt. Newell W. BRAINARD<br />

2nd Lt. George R. AUSTIN<br />

S/Sgt Victor 1. P ANCONI<br />

T/Sgt Louis T. TOCKET<br />

T/Sgt Roy A. BELOU<strong>SK</strong>I<br />

S/Sgt Nicolas H. DENGLER<br />

S/Sgt Charles W. LOETHER<br />

S/Sgt Herbert A. LEDIN<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

NIB<br />

B<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

WG<br />

WG<br />

TG<br />

POW<br />

KCIV<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

POW


Annexe 1: The Crews<br />

141<br />

LEAD SQD 700 111 BS - High-right element<br />

Aircraft #584-D<br />

Ist Lt. John'. E. FRENCH<br />

P<br />

1 st Lt. Robert D. COCHRAN CP<br />

FlO Robert T. TIMS<br />

BIN<br />

S/Sgt David A. GREENLY NG<br />

T/Sgt W. L. JACOBS<br />

E/TTG<br />

T/Sgt Fred N. FI<strong>SK</strong>E<br />

RO<br />

S/Sgt James E. CORMAN<br />

LWG<br />

S/Sgt Charles A. HUDDLESTUN RWG<br />

S/Sgt Herbert R. SCHWARTZ TG<br />

2nd Lt. Wil1iam S. BRUCE<br />

1st Lt. John P. WILLETT Jr.<br />

2nd Lt. Daniel A. ABRAHAM<br />

2nd Lt. Daniel H. APPLETON<br />

T/Sgt Calvin F. HESS<br />

T/Sgt Peter POGOVICH<br />

S/Sgt Fred A. PAULUS<br />

S/Sgt William 1. FLEMING<br />

S/Sgt Glenn H. SHAFFER<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

B<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

WG<br />

WG<br />

TG<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

1st Lt. Reginald R. MINER P POW<br />

1st Lt. Virgil CHIMA CP KIA<br />

Ist Lt. Frank 1. BERTRAM DRN POW<br />

2nd Lt. Branch H HENARD Jr. PFFN POW<br />

2nd Lt. Charles W. JACKSON NING POW<br />

1st Lt. John V. OMICK B POW<br />

T/Sgt Robert M. AULT E POW<br />

S/Sgt Joseph HGILFOIL RO KIA<br />

S/Sgt Mertis C. THORNTON Jr. TTG POW<br />

S/Sgt Lawrence S. BOWERS LWG POW<br />

S/Sgt Alvis O. KITCHENS RWG POW<br />

Arthur W. LAMBERSON TG POW<br />

'Inralf ··3~1-\ I(Jrr lIorrh \I,l/d<br />

2nd Lt. Howard A. JONES P POW Ist Lt. Carl 1. SOLLIEN P POW<br />

2nd Lt. Harold P. ALLEN CP KCIV 2nd Lt. William H KOENIG CP KIA<br />

2nd Lt. Robert FULTON N POW 2nd Lt. Wesley L. HUDELSON N POW<br />

2nd Lt. Joseph A. WIL<strong>SK</strong>I B POW 1 st Lt. Malcolm 1. MacGREGOR B POW<br />

S/Sgt Milton H LEE NG POW 2nd Lt. John D. DENT NING KIA<br />

T/Sgt Andrew FRATTA E/TTG KIA S/Sgt Ammi H. MILLER TTG POW<br />

T/Sgt William C. STREMNIE RO POW T/Sgt Charles 1. GRAHAM RO POW<br />

S/Sgt Warren B. PENDLETON LWG POW S/Sgt James L. BRIDGEO LWG KIA<br />

S/Sgt Willis A. MEIER RWG POW T/Sgt William C. STEPHENS RWG KIA<br />

S/Sgt Raymond J PAULUS TG KIA S/Sgt Robert C. IMHOFF TG KIA


142 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

~Q~~02ndBS-~ <br />

1 st Lt. Myron H. DONALD P KCIV<br />

2nd Lt. Frank C. SMITH CP POW<br />

2nd Lt. Eric W. SMITH Jr. N POW<br />

1st Lt. Ira P. WEINSTEIN B POW<br />

T/Sgt Anthony KIELAR E/TTG KIA<br />

T/SgtJackB. STIDHAM RO POW<br />

S/Sgt James L. McENTEE LWG KIA<br />

S/Sgt Walter 1. WALSTON RWG KIA<br />

S/Sgt Lawrence A. MODLIN TG KIA<br />

Aircraft #331-U Percy<br />

1st Lt. Stanley E. KRIVIK P 2nd Lt. Leslie E. WARMAN P KIA<br />

2nd Lt. Leonard R. TROTTA CP 2nd Lt. Robert C. JOHNSTON CP KIA<br />

FlO Daniel J. DALE N KIA 2nd Lt. Francis W. COSTLEY N KIA<br />

S/Sgt Clifford N. STROMBERG NG S/Sgt Francis R. E. BARNISH NG POW<br />

T/Sgt Donald R. BUGALECKI EITTG S/Sgt Wilbur E. BROWN EITTG POW<br />

T/Sgt John CADDEN RO S/Sgt Douglas P. SMITH RO KIA<br />

S/Sgt James R. PAUL LWG S/Sgt Carl W. FORSTER LWG KIA<br />

S/Sgt William RAND RWG S/Sgt Charles G. PAKENSTEIN RWG KIA<br />

S/Sgt Henry A. PUTO TG S/Sgt Raymond W. RAY TG POW<br />

1st Lt. James W. SCHAEN P KIA<br />

2ndLt. BobbyC. McGOUGH CP POW<br />

2nd Lt. Corman H. BEAN N POW<br />

2nd Lt. George M. COLLAR B POW<br />

T/Sgt George S. EPPLEY EITTG POW<br />

TISgt Robert L. COLLINS RO POW<br />

S/Sgt Richard L. PARSONS LWG KIA<br />

S/Sgt Edward 1. JOHNSON RWG KIA<br />

S/Sgt Brian J. HURT TG KIA<br />

2nd Lt. Herbert POTTS P KIA<br />

2nd Lt. Gerald J. KATHOL CP POW<br />

2nd Lt. Dale F. ZORNOW N KIA<br />

2nd Lt. James R. FREYBLER B KIA<br />

Sgt Henry BROADWAY Jr. E/TTG KIA<br />

Sgt Ernest J. BIASETTI RO POW<br />

Sgt Roger L. SCOTT LWG POW<br />

Sgt Olin D. JOHNSON RWG KIA<br />

Sgt Rogers SIL YERMAN TG POW


Annexe 1: The Crews<br />

143<br />

1st Lt. James C. BAYNHAM<br />

2nd Lt. Charles M. BOUSQUET<br />

2nd Lt. John W. COWGILL<br />

2nd Lt. Hector V. SCALA<br />

T/Sgt Howard L. BOLDT<br />

T/Sgt James T. FIELDS<br />

S/Sgt John Ray LEMONS<br />

S/Sgt Olen C. BYRD<br />

S/Sgt John W. KNOX<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

B<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

RWG<br />

TG<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

KCIV<br />

KCIV<br />

POW<br />

KCIV<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

lst Lt. Donald E. BRENT<br />

2nd Lt. Walter E. GEORGE Jr.<br />

2nd Lt. Harold H. MERCIER<br />

S/Sgt George B. LINKLETTER<br />

T/Sgt Constant GALUSZEW<strong>SK</strong>I<br />

T/Sgt Sammy S. WEINER<br />

S/Sgt Milton C. SMISEK<br />

S/Sgt Donald W. LARSEN<br />

S/Sgt Woodard C. WATTS<br />

HIGH~HIGH RIGHT SQD 701st BS - Lead element<br />

Aircraft #71 O-E<br />

1 st Lt. Donald H. SMITH P<br />

1st Lt. AdolfF. LERCH<br />

CP<br />

1st Lt. William O. CARPENTER<br />

N<br />

1 st Lt. Clarence H. SMITH Jr. B<br />

T/Sgt Anthony CAPUANO<br />

NG<br />

T/Sgt Lonnie O. DAVIS<br />

E/TTG<br />

T/Sgt William R. KLINEFELTER<br />

RO<br />

S/Sgt Jack LASWELL<br />

LWG<br />

S/Sgt Curtis V. COWART<br />

RWG<br />

S/Sgt Eldon E. GRAY<br />

TG<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

NG<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

RWG<br />

TG<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

Aircraft #855-A Wallet A-Abel<br />

\i! l raIl :;-1'10-1<br />

1 st Lt. William R. DEWEY P 1 st Lt. Edgar N. WALTHER P POW<br />

2nd Lt. William L. BOYKIN Jr. CP 2nd Lt. Martin GEISZLER Jf. CP KIA<br />

2nd Lt. Herbert E. BAILEY B 2nd Lt. Ross B. BROWER N KIA<br />

S/Sgt Leslie L. MEDLOCK NG 2nd Lt. John 1. BECKER B KIA<br />

T/Sgt Charles CRAIG E/TTG 2nd Lt. Kenneth L. MEEKS NING KIA<br />

T/Sgt John E. ELLSON RO T/Sgt Richard W. VERNOR E/TTG KIA<br />

S/Sgt Walter 1. BARTKOW LWG T/Sgt Glenn R. A. BERGQUIST RO KIA<br />

S/Sgt George R. JOHNSON RWG S/Sgt John F. WISE LWG KIA<br />

S/Sgt Reuben MONTANEZ TG S/Sgt Norman A. HOLLIS RWG KIA<br />

S/Sgt Milo R. MANN TG KIA


144 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

HIGH-HIGH RIGHT SQD 70lst BS - Second<br />

element<br />

2nd Lt. Donald N. REYNOLDS<br />

2nd Lt. Herbert T. ROBINSON<br />

1st Lt. James T. WITHEY<br />

Sgt Robert M. LONG<br />

S/Sgt James T. ENGLEMAN<br />

S/Sgt Robert C. SHEEHAN<br />

S/Sgt Lars E. LARSEN<br />

Sgt Maynard DANNER<br />

Sgt Harry G. TWIGG<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

NG<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

RWG<br />

TG<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

\ i n r


Annexe 1: The Crews<br />

145<br />

I HIGH-HIGH RIGHT SQD 70lst BS - High-right element I <br />

Aircraft #939-S Heavenly Body <br />

I st Lt. Wilbur R. WILKENS P<br />

Unknown<br />

CP<br />

Unknown<br />

N<br />

Unknown<br />

B<br />

Unknown<br />

E/TTG<br />

Unknown<br />

RO<br />

Unknown<br />

LWG<br />

Unknown<br />

RWG<br />

Unknown<br />

TG<br />

Aircraft #921-B Tahelenbak<br />

1st Lt. Donald C. McCLELLAND<br />

Unknown<br />

Norman SELTZER<br />

Unknown<br />

George MORROW<br />

Robert DE SANTIS<br />

Merejildo TRUJILLO<br />

John BARRON<br />

Jack NIMMO<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

B<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

RWG<br />

TG<br />

LOW LEFT SQD 703rd BS - Lead element<br />

Aircraft #811-0 Patty Girl<br />

1 st Lt. Cecil J. ISOM<br />

P<br />

lst Lt. Lonnie JUSTICE<br />

CP<br />

I st Lt. Arthur SHAY<br />

N<br />

1st Lt. Jay HEISEL<br />

N<br />

1st Lt. Wayne SPRAGUE<br />

B<br />

S/Sgt Kyle C. BAILEY<br />

EITTG<br />

T/Sgt Ed BARNES<br />

E<br />

T/Sgt John J. REINMAN<br />

RO<br />

S/Sgt Paul M. DICKERSON<br />

LWG<br />

S/Sgt William E. WAGNER<br />

RWG<br />

S/Sgt Raymond PHILLIPS<br />

TG<br />

Aircraft #549-G<br />

1st Lt. Jackson C. MERCER<br />

2nd Lt. Leo P. POULIOT<br />

2nd Lt. Milton H. F ANDLER<br />

S/Sgt Theodore E. HOlTEN<br />

2nd Lt. George NOORIGIAN<br />

T/Sgt Kenneth KRIBS<br />

T/Sgt Robert BENNET<br />

S/Sgt Harry L. WHEATON<br />

S/Sgt Harry 1. LIED<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

NG<br />

B<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

TG<br />

18t Lt. Joseph E. JOHNSON<br />

2nd Lt. Edward M. KELLY<br />

2nd Lt. Herbert M.BATEMAN<br />

2nd Lt. William E. FLICKNER<br />

2nd Lt. James E. DOWLING<br />

T/Sgt Arthur P. EISENMAN<br />

TISgt Charles H. REILLY<br />

S/SGt Rubin 1. SISCO<br />

S/Sgt Alan M. BALDWIN<br />

S/Sgt Floyd L. JACKSON<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

NING<br />

B<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

RWG<br />

TG<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

KPOL<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

POW


l46<br />

C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

LOW LEFT<br />

Second element<br />

1st Lt. William J. MOWAT<br />

2nd Lt. Orville P. SMETS<br />

FlO John L. SPINGLER<br />

S/Sgt Sylvester V. LELLO<br />

T/Sgt Theodore 1. MYERS<br />

T/sgt Earl B. GROVES<br />

S/Sgt Everette L. WILLIAMS<br />

S/Sgt John B. NEHER Jr.<br />

S/Sgt Frank T. PLESA<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

NIB<br />

NG<br />

EITTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

RWG<br />

TG<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

1st Lt. Richard A. FROMM<br />

2nd Lt. Edward A. GLOBIS<br />

1st Lt. Charles B. McCANN<br />

S/Sgt Raymond E. BENCE Jr.<br />

T/Sgt Russell C. LENE<br />

T/Sgt Joseph J. RACKIS<br />

S/Sgt William N. BROWER<br />

S/Sgt Joseph F. WILLIAMS<br />

S/Sgt Lee H. COFFIN<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

NG<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

RWG<br />

TG<br />

POW <br />

KIA <br />

POW <br />

POW <br />

POW <br />

POW <br />

POW <br />

POW <br />

POW <br />

1st Lt. Oliver B. ELDER<br />

2nd Lt. Roy E. ELLENDER<br />

1st Lt. Harold P. WHIDDEN Jr.<br />

2nd Lt. Charles VERGOS<br />

T ISgt Paul E. DE VRIES<br />

T/Sgt John J. DONAHUE<br />

S/Sgt Charles 1. DECKERT Jr.<br />

S/Sgt John L. DURR<br />

S/Sgt Stanley H MORSE<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

B<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

RWG<br />

TG<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

POW<br />

KCIV<br />

POW<br />

POW<br />

KIA<br />

2nd Lt. Andrew G. SEEDS<br />

2nd Lt. Michael 1. LUONGO<br />

2nd Lt. Thomas C. BmB<br />

2nd Lt. Joseph F. SIRL<br />

Sgt James M. DOUGLAS<br />

S/Sgt John E. BUCH Jr.<br />

Sgt Sigmund C. MISCHEL<br />

Sgt James 1. CROWLEY<br />

Sgt Clare L. WHEELER<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

B<br />

E/TTG<br />

RO<br />

LWG<br />

RWG<br />

TG<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA<br />

KIA


Annexe 1: The Crews<br />

147<br />

~703rdBS-Hi~<br />

2nd Lt. Roy E. BOLIN P KIA<br />

2nd Lt. Laurence G. BARBEN CP KIA<br />

2nd Lt. Louis P. AJELLO N KIA<br />

2nd Lt. Truman ARMSTRONG Jr. B KIA<br />

Sgt Charles E. WEATHERLY E/TTG KIA<br />

S/Sgt William AARON RO KIA<br />

Sgt Robert W. OLESON LWG KIA<br />

Sgt Tage R. FREDERIKSEN RWG KIA<br />

Sgt Orland J. SCHOOLEY TG POW<br />

Aircraft #250-0<br />

2nd Lt. Rene J. SCHNEIDER<br />

2nd Lt. Carl A. HOGEL<br />

2nd Lt. William M. FOSTER<br />

2nd Lt. Edwin N. HOLLAND Jf.<br />

SevariusJ. TlnURTIN<br />

Joseph J. WOZNIAK<br />

Dallas L.MILLER<br />

Edward V. BURNS<br />

HarryR. TOLBERT<br />

Stuart F. MacCALLUM-MHOR<br />

P<br />

CP<br />

N<br />

B<br />

RO


148 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Annex II: "A navigational error?"<br />

I was deeply committed to rendering the subject faithfully. But, when I began this<br />

work, I deliberately skipped the reason for this disaster. However, in the very long<br />

questionnaire I submitted to the survivors, I added some questions about the change of<br />

heading, in order to ease the work of later professional historians. Here are some of the<br />

replies:<br />

• Nelson Dimick (copilot, lead squadron): "My feeling (is that there) was an error<br />

some time before the IP, caused by misreading of radar image, we chose the wrong target. I<br />

was monitoring group frequency and was aware of confusion. It was at the IP when I noted<br />

disagreement as to our heading from IP to target."<br />

• Raphael Carrow (pilot, lead squadron): "The initial error was made on the way to<br />

target, after leaving the IP. I Called Maj. McCoy to inform him that they were off course."<br />

• Carroll Snidow (copilot, lead squadron): "My belief is we made the wrong turn on<br />

IP. Our navigator called in to our flight leader with no result or action taken."<br />

• Ira Weinstein (bombardier, high right squadron): "(The error was) in failing to<br />

tum toward the IP."<br />

• Frank 1. Bertram (navigator, high right squadron): "The target was not visible on<br />

the ground, but the heavy, intense flak certainly indicated where it was. It seems the only<br />

plane that didn't know where the target was, was the lead plane!"<br />

• Gene George (copilot, high right squadron): "I have always wondered why we<br />

made such errors when the process was so simple. One thought is that the Germans could<br />

have been deflecting radar transmissions, thus confusing our navigation as well as our<br />

target positioning. We seemed to have been flying in a confused 'nowhere' for too long a<br />

time".<br />

• Henri Dobek (navigator, high high right squadron): "After leaving the IP on the<br />

bomb run, the lead plane continued to fly the same heading for approximately 11 or 12<br />

minutes and then dropped the bombs. I had estimated that we dropped the bombs over


149<br />

Gottingen. I had called my pilot and infonned him of this but we did not notify the lead<br />

crew" .<br />

• Peter Belitsos (copilot, high high right squadron): "Don't remember exactly but<br />

(I) think it was in failing to tum toward the IP. Both of us knew something was wrong."<br />

• Web Uebelhoer (deputy lead pilot, lead squadron): "(The) initial error (was) on<br />

the way to target after leaving the IP. It wasn't immediately apparent that we were off<br />

course. (...) We were winning the war."<br />

When considering the diversity of survivor statements on what exactly occurred in<br />

the change in heading, we must keep in mind that the ensuing onslaught provided a<br />

tremendous emotional shock to the men. And also, the lapse of time could have affected<br />

the memory of something that occurred on September 2t h , 1944 to its recollection more<br />

than fifty years later.<br />

Does this really change the reality of the past? There are ways of negotiating it to<br />

ensure "historical accuracy." A methodological approach is needed. For example, the mist<br />

surrounding the last moments of the lead ship.<br />

When the witnesses spoke about Chilton's ship, they said it was hit in the early stage<br />

of the battle. And also that it was in flames and blew up soon after being hit. But, if we<br />

take a close look at the crash sites, we realize that Chilton's plane is far from the "mass<br />

grave," and only one B-24 crashed farther west - Miner's aircraft. Of course, I am<br />

excluding the two that fell outside the main area and the three others that went down later.<br />

It is hard to believe an exploding ship could loose altitude slowly and keep a straight<br />

course! The lethal blow must have been later.<br />

Glen McConnick was in the lead ship and confmns that fact. "They started hitting<br />

the planes at the rear of the fonnation and progressed right up to the lead airplanes. Our<br />

plane was one of the later ones hit. "<br />

To fonn a reasonable theory of why the lead ship left the planned track, one must have<br />

an understanding of how the PFF navigational team worked and what kind of "error" they<br />

could induce. Then, to search the archives looking for similar course alterations caused by<br />

PFF navigational error and compare the range of alteration. If one can [md a similarity<br />

between the error and its effect on the track plot, some assessments can then be made.


150 CRUE1J<strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

There is one major area still to be considered: the command pilot, who sometimes<br />

overruled the navigator's judgement, the rank difference making arguments futile. So, the<br />

background of Major McCoy is another area to investigate.<br />

One must also consider a psychological factor, the over-confidence that reigned at<br />

allied headquarters at this time. Even the crews were stunned at being attacked by fighters:<br />

"We were winning the war," as Web Uebelhoer said.<br />

It is possible that this feeling led McCoy to deliberately take some risks (if he ever<br />

thought that it was risky!) It seems probable that, even if a navigation error occurred frrst,<br />

it was followed by a command decision which, we now know, was not the wisest thing to<br />

do.


151<br />

SOURCES<br />

PRlMARY SOURCES<br />

GWY 1584 (Gannany 1944), Abschussfilm (Tagjagd), B&W, mute, 1 reels, 471 ft, 13 min,<br />

camera gun footage of air battles, Imperial War Museum, London.<br />

Books<br />

Pilot's Flight Operating Instructions for Anny Models B~24G, Hand J airplanes, Navy Model<br />

PB4Y-l, British Model Liberator GRVI and BVI; AN 01-5EE-1.<br />

Diaries<br />

Excerpt out of Charles Huddelstun's diary for Sept. 27, 1944 (submitted by his Daughter<br />

Karen Dickey)<br />

Articles<br />

The Stars and Stripes, London Edition, Thursday, Sept. 28, 1944, VoL 4 No. 282 ID.<br />

The Jeffersonian Cambridge Ohio, Friday December 15, 1944 (Submitted by CaroB Snidow)<br />

Miscellaneous<br />

Pilot's Flimsey for Sept 27,1944 (Submitted by Web Uebelhoer) <br />

Pilots briefing notes for Sept. 27, 1944 (Submitted by Web Uebelhoer) <br />

Mission's notes from Web Uebelhoer's (Submitted by Web Uebelhoer) <br />

Fonnation drawing, 1 51 Mission of 27 September 1944 (Submitted by John French) <br />

Pilot's flimsey for Sept. 27, 1944 (Submitted by John French) <br />

2 SO Mission NalTative. Mission of 27 September, 1944. Targets: Cologne, Ludwigshafen, <br />

Kassel, Mainz, declassified Sept. 27,1958 (Submitted by Gene George) <br />

Casualty Report from Herbert C. Bridges, Jr. to Lt. Col. John T. Burns, Casualty Branch, 26 <br />

July 1945 (Submitted by George Collar).


152 C<strong>RUEL</strong> <strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

S/Sgt. 1. A. Reardon, group gunnery: letter to Porter Henry, September 30, 1944 (Submitted<br />

by William Dewey)<br />

T/Sgt. Theodore J. Myers: letter to Capt. W. G. Waddington, Port Liaison Officer, Aug. 8,<br />

1945 (Submitted by Frank Plesa)<br />

Books<br />

SECONDARY SOURCES<br />

Rudolph J. Birsic, The History ofthe 445 1h Bombardment Group (H) (unofficial), 1947<br />

Prescott W. Coleman, The Life and Times ofCrew 319, 1989 (Unpublished) dedicated to John<br />

Dexter Dent. <br />

Ralph Pearson, Shot Down on the Kassel Raid, in "A Hometown went to War" (Submitted by <br />

George Collar) <br />

Miscellaneous<br />

Glen S. McCormick, My Stay in the Military, August 3, 1988 (Submitted by George Collar)<br />

Robert T. Tims, Kassel (The Story ofa Mission over Germany), (Submitted by George Collar)<br />

Story ofLt. William S. Bruce (Submitted by George Collar)<br />

George Collar, Ten crews that got back from Kassel.<br />

Daten tiber US-Flugzeugabslurz, Walter Hassenpflug (Submitted by George Collar)<br />

Flak battery report from an English translation of a dr. Schnatz' book (Submitted by Carroll<br />

Snidow)<br />

Replot of the mission done by Don Whitefield from log provided by R. F. Gelvin (Submitted <br />

by Don Whitefield) <br />

Letter from James R. Paul to George Collar, July 10, 1990 (Submitted by George Collar). <br />

Interview with Corman Bean (Submitted by George Collar)


153<br />

Letter fmm Gerald Kathol to Walter Hassenpflug, 9 February 1988 (Submitted by George<br />

Collar)<br />

Correspondence wi th author<br />

Answers to the questionnaire plus some personal documents.<br />

Web L. UEBELHOER<br />

Donald D. WHITEFIELD<br />

Robert L. SIMS<br />

Charles A. HUDDLESTUN<br />

Herbert R. SCHWARTZ<br />

John. E. FRENCH<br />

Nelson L. DIMICK<br />

Harry F. TACHOV<strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Raphael E. CARROW<br />

Fabian S. MACK<br />

Carroll G. SNIDOW<br />

Jack LASWELL<br />

William R. DEWEY<br />

Charles CRAIG<br />

James T. WITHEY<br />

James T. ENGLEMAN<br />

Jack M. ERICKSON<br />

Henry DOBEK<br />

Peter S. BELITSOS<br />

Frank 1. BERTRAM<br />

Mertis C. THORNTON Jr.<br />

Lawrence S. BOWERS<br />

Malcom 1. MacGREGOR<br />

Ammi H. MILLER<br />

Charles J. GRAHAM<br />

Milton H. LEE<br />

Warren B. PENDLETON<br />

Willis A. MEIER<br />

James C. BAYNHAM<br />

Howard L. BOLDT<br />

John Ray LEMONS<br />

John W. KNOX<br />

Eugene GEORGE Jf.<br />

Sammy S. WEINER<br />

Bobby C. McGOUGH<br />

Corman H. BEAN<br />

George M. COLLAR<br />

Ira P. WEINSTEIN<br />

Raymond W. RAY<br />

Edward BARNES<br />

Paul M. DICKERSON<br />

James E. DOWLING<br />

Jackson C. MERCER<br />

Harry L. WHEATON<br />

Frank T. PLESA<br />

Interviews with author<br />

During the 2 nd AD - 8 th AF: Midwest Regional Reunion, Dayton, September 1996.<br />

Donald D. WHITEFIELD<br />

Charles A. HUDDLESTUN<br />

Herbert R. SCHWARTZ<br />

Harry F. TACHOV<strong>SK</strong>Y<br />

Dwight F. GALYON<br />

Jack M. ERICKSON<br />

Henry DOBEK<br />

Frank 1. BERTRAM<br />

Lawrence S. BOWERS<br />

Milton H. LEE<br />

John Ray LEMONS<br />

John W. KNOX<br />

Eugene GEORGE Jf.<br />

George M. COLLAR<br />

Ira P. WEINSTEIN<br />

Raymond W. RAY<br />

Joseph J. WOZNIAK<br />

During the 2 nd AD - 8 th AF: Regional Reunion, Savannah, September 1999.<br />

Donald D. WHITEFIELD Dick GELVIN George M. COLLAR<br />

Web L. UEBELHOER Paul SWOFFORD Ira P. WEINSTEIN

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