This is an abbreviated version of a much longer story I
thought I would share as an illustration of the kind of useful information
transfer that can take place online.
Before the arrival of the net, developing something like this was
essentially impossible. For instance,
until many of the WWII veterans started retiring in the 1980s, most of them
knew very little about the larger story they had once been a part of during the
war. My father, a 21-year old aviator in
1944, built a substantial WWII library and for most of his life, studied the Army Air Force he had
been a part of.
The wide
availability of the net arrived a little late for most of them, but many invested
a huge amount of time and effort in further recording their experiences as young
men. Their communication tools: a phone, mail, and Xerox copies of original
documents.
Jim never
flew with my father’s crew although they did fly their missions during some of
the same months of 1944, from the same Army Air Force base in England. A few years ago, as I went through my
father’s things, I found the beginnings of Jim’s story. It was a 1-½ page typewritten letter and a
few pictures Jim, then 70, sent to my father as his submittal for possible use
in the Group’s reunion history. Jim’s
story wasn’t used; he passed away a year later.
His brief letter
didn’t contain much information, but as I read it I could sense the pride and
strength in the once young eagle’s words.
He included a photocopy of his Goldfish
Club patch and certificate, which suggested that there might be an
interesting story beyond Jim’s words. I
dug into it.
Here is Jim’s
1991 letter as he wrote it:
A Mission Remembered
“One of the most memorable of the thirty missions as a ball
turret gunner was my sixth with the Squadron and the sixty third for the Group.
“May 12, 1944 was to be a day not easily forgotten. Our mission was to destroy a parts and repair
plant, the Focke Wulf, in Swickau, Germany.
“Early in
our flight we were met with heavy German resistance. In spite of the loss of one engine due to
heavy enemy fire and flack, we were able to continue and deliver the bombs
right on target.
“Returning
back to the base was a bit more challenging.
Two more engines were made useless by the constant German fire and
flack. The injured tail gunner managed
to down one enemy plane and I downed two from the ball turret. On orders we’re going to abandon ship. Within a split second our plans were changed
when the injured waist gunner accidentally kicked out another chute as he
jumped. It was decided that we would
ditch in the English Channel.
“As the
plane lost altitude, everything of weight was thrown out (guns, ammo, radio),
anything to make her lighter. The plane
took quite a beating. We now had a B-17
with one engine and a flack ridden bomb bay door which could not be completely
closed, heading for the channel. The
crew had a fatally hit tail gunner and a severely wounded navigator. Under the skilled hands of Lt. William Moses,
the plane skimmed the choppy waters and an unbelievable landing was made.
“Our
surprise of surprises came as those red handles were pulled and only one dinghy
was found put aboard. I have since
learned that a stripe or two was lost due to the oversight).
“The deceased tail gunner was buried with
the fast sinking plane as the others got into the dinghy. The dying
navigator knew I was the only crew member on the outside of the raft,
hanging on rather tight. He asked the
co-pilot that he be buried at sea thereby making room for one more, me. Upon his death, his wish was sadly carried
out and I was helped on board.
“The sight
of an English sea plane coming to our rescue made us more aware of being
attacked by ground troops. We were
closer to the French boarder than first thought. The rescue plane took two rough hits but we
safely boarded and headed out.
“After
being released from the English hospital, where flack was removed and treatment
was given, a week of R&R at Spetchley Park was quite a
welcome change. Then it was back to the
base from where the remaining missions were flown.
“Before
leaving for the U.S., I was presented
with a patch and a card making me a member of the Gold Fish Club. On the way
home I truly felt exactly what belonging to the “Lucky Bastard’s Club” made me.
. .
“Upon
graduating in Larado from gunnery instructors school, it was on to Westover Field, Massachusetts. Assignment at the Range ended about the time
of V.J. Day. Honorably discharged at Ft. Devens, I headed for Toledo with a new
“Ruptured Duck” and a promise that was fulfilled six months later when a New England gal became my
wife. Looking back there is no doubt, I
had the privilege to fly with a great crew that day. As anyone reading this has experienced…some
days were a bit easier than others but it’s great that I’m here to write this
and that you are here to read it. So it
surely was a good cause after all…God bless America.
Jim - 1991
Jim’s letter was puzzling in that he didn’t
name any members of his crew. A bomber
crew was typically a very tight-knit unit, but in Jim’s case, as I discovered
later, he was flying as a replacement with this crew…so, he didn’t know any of
the others. He had a story he wanted to
tell, but it was really hard to figure out from his letter just what it
was. This is not uncommon when you read
old accounts, or more recent accounts written by older men…we all tend to lose
our sharp recollections over time.
However, I recognized the specialized terminology from having
studied my father’s AAF service.
There are
so many similar stories that time doesn't permit developing them unless they touch
my father’s experience. Jim’s halting story intrigued me. Within a few hours online, I had the names of
the crew and a very narrow idea of what had occurred. Within a couple of weeks I had the Missing
Air Crew Report from Maxwell AFB and a much better understanding of the story. Of the 10-man crew, 7 had been rescued, 2
killed, 1 bailed out and taken prisoner; and the rescue planes had come under
fire from the shore about 4000-yards distant.
This was a far more dramatic event than most similar ditchings with
which I was familiar.
After
taking the story as far as I could in 2007, I wrote up a brief piece summarizing
the information I had, and posted an inquiry to one of the WWII Air Force
forums. Almost 4-years passed before the
first response came in. It was Jim’s
daughter and she knew less than I did about her father’s ditching experience,
except that it had happened.
About a
year later, after 5-years had passed, a great nephew of the “deceased tail gunner” and the pilot’s
son got involved by comparing their notes and pictures. The MACR contained a real collection of
documents that included reports from nearby aircraft, from a German POW camp,
and from several of the rescued crewmen themselves.
Jim’s crew
had been seriously shot up over the target, torn up further by Luftwaffe
fighter attacks on the way out, and ultimately they ditched just offshore. Unlike most ditched aircraft where the crew
was killed, 7 of Jim’s crew managed to survive the ditching and escape capture
aboard a rescue plane as it came under fire from the nearby shore. As a result of the "deceased tail gunner's" distraught
father being very persistent in seeking the details of his son’s death, the MACR
was filled with far more information than are most others. There are lengthy
personal letters from several crewmen describing what had happened in much more detail than Jim wrote in 1991.
Quite a bit more could be developed about these crews and this particular
mission. For instance, other researchers
are working on the details of the mission itself and of individual unit
locations. It is known that the
Luftwaffe fighters had repeatedly attacked Jim’s bomber stream in their devastating
10-abreast frontal attacks. At this point in the war, these attacks were rare--the Luftwaffe had been severely damaged earlier in the year during "Big Week."
The following is a page from Don’s personal journal describing Jim’s May 12, 1944, mission from Don's perspective flying in a nearby B-17…it was found quite by chance as I was preparing
this essay. These are his words,
verbatim, as he wrote them into his journal after returning to base from the
mission…it’s poignant to think that as he was writing these words, Jim and what
was left of his crew were just being recovered from the English Channel:
“We
started out this morning at 8 O’clock, flying our own
ship (400) as #5 in the lead. Our route
was between Dunkirk and Ostend. A little way in enemy territory, we picked up
a few of our escort (P47’s). Then about
half-way to the target, bombardier calls out about 10 e/a which attacked from 12:30 high.
They passed thru us not making any hits, or us on them either. P47’s jumped, leaving us without dropping
bombs on us (no effects seen) and attacked following wing. That wing was lit up like a Christmas tree
with 20 mm cannon fire. I saw at least
10-12 B-17’s blow up or else go down out of control. It was a horrible sight. About 5 minutes later about 15 e/a passed
thru our formation, causing one ship in high group to blow up, and a few other
planes to feather props. This was
another head-on attack. From then on to
the target we were not bothered by e/a, but were also without visible fighter
support. Our bombs were dropped over
primary target O.K., and from what I could see results were not good. However, the other group really plastered the
aircraft plant. There was no flak there,
but during the day we ran into scattered stuff, none of it accurate. After the target, we picked up some P-38’s
which “S” –ed overhead. At that time we
were attacked by 12 ME 109’s from 1 O’clock, a little
high. The escort didn’t seem to pay a
bit of attention to them, which burned us up.
From then on the rest of the mission was without incident. Our crew made no claims on e/a, and I saw
only one fighter go down. Peters
(co-pilot) and Prendergast (navigator) flew with us, otherwise complete
crew. Flying time was 8 hrs. about 6 ½
on oxygen. No damage to our ship.
This was a
helluva mission, and made me admire those old timers that flew without
escort (note: just a few months earlier in 1943). The Luftwaffe still packs a
mighty wallop, if they want to come up and fight. On visual missions, like today, we are going
to see a lot more of ‘em. (Hope not!!!)”
Most
recently, and most astoundingly, one of the current descendents researching
this story of his great uncle (the deceased tail gunner), found on eBay a picture of a
lone B-17 shown in a large, but clear Army photograph. He bought it knowing only from its markings,
that the plane is from his great uncle’s Group.
He sent a copy of it to me after he received it.
I was able to isolate the plane and enlarge the clear
image. The tail number identifies the
aircraft as being Jim’s plane ! And the lower border nomenclature
reveals that the mission is the one that Jim’s story tells. You can clearly see
smoke trailing from the off-side, outboard (#4) engine, #3 appears to be feathered, and there is visible damage on the horizontal
stabilizer. As related in the accounts, this plane was shot to hell.
They were
still aloft, by themselves at this point, in slow descent heading for their date with destiny. And this is a fantastic story that began with
a single posting to the net, about 5-years ago. None of the survivors ever saw this picture...the story now belongs to their descendents.
Do you see any tears in my eyes?
Our music charts were most frequently topped by Ray Charles and Roy Orbison. Elvis and the Do-Wop melodies of a few
years earlier were giving way to the Isley
Brothers' “Twist and Shout.” About
the time we prepared to leave EH, the Beach
Boys and the Beatles burst on
the music scene. Our music was changing
quickly.
Audrey may have been the icon for those a little older than
us, but did you ever see another woman wear a black dress any more strikingly than
her? 
Brigitte was our new sex symbol following Marilyn who held
that spotlight during our 1950s childhood.
To see Brigitte though, we had to go to one of the West Side
theaters where she could be seen in some non-descript film…but only if you
could bluff yourself by the “adults only” restriction at the door.
Brigitte was our new sex symbol following Marilyn who held
that spotlight during our 1950s childhood.
To see Brigitte though, we had to go to one of the West Side
theaters where she could be seen in some non-descript film…but only if you
could bluff yourself by the “adults only” restriction at the door. 
During our fall 1962 senior semester, the Cuban Missile Crisis played out in the Atlantic
and in the Gulf of Mexico. On October
22, 1962, the United States
military services were placed on DEFCON 2, the highest post-WWII alert status our country
has ever been on. And the country remained on DEFCON 2 until November 15, 1962. During those few weeks, our Highlanders
played football games against Carter Riverside, Paschal (yes, the famous 8-7
win!), Poly, and North Side, winning 3 of those 4 games!
