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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 />
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Lille<br />
• •<br />
Charleroi<br />
..Liege<br />
.. "'"<br />
Koln<br />
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' ____,,/ ~. 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 />
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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 />
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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 />
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Lead element '.,':~.''''o...'1f;.<br />
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element <br />
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! ......&...... Lead<br />
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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,"
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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