Heroes: the Army Air Corps
"...Once we came back with 78 holes in the plane, our hydraulic system shot out and a flat tire. Jim plugged up the hydraulic lines with chewing gum and we landed with no brakes. The flat tire sent the plane going round and round on the runway..."
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"...Capt. E. Craig Amspoker, served from 1942 to 1945 in the Ninth Air Force, 394th Bomb Group, 587th Squadron as a bombardier in B-26's during the following battles/campaigns: Normandy, Northern France, Rhineland, Ardennes, and Central Europe. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross and Air Medal with nine oak leaf clusters..."
Letters Home
M146. Germany [Venlo, Holland] 22 May 1945
Hello again darling,
Another long boring day gone by. This life will drive me nuts. I've got to come home.
I had a talk with our S-2 officer today and I gather that it's OK to say where I am etc. I might as well give you the itinerary. I left New York long long ago and flew from there to New Foundland in a C-54. We stayed there about 5 hours and took off for Europe. I went to sleep and woke up landing in Prestwick, Scotland. I stayed there a night and took a train to Stone, England, a replacement center, and I passed through Glasgow. I stayed at Stone a week and went by train to Liverpool and by boat to Belfast, N. Ireland. I was stationed at a little town called Toombridge on the shore of the big lake you can see on a map of North Ireland.* The crew joined me there and after several weeks we were sent by plane to Boreham, England, near Chelmsford, about 30 miles north of London. From there we went to Holmsley South, near Bournemouth on the South East coast of England. From there to a field near Bayeaux in Normandy. From there to Bricy, near Orleans and from there to Cambrai up near the Belgian border. Ross** was also at Cambrai and was moved to Liege where I saw him yesterday. I am now at Venlo, Holland right on the German border north of Maastricht. Have you found all those places on a map, honey?
I can't remember all the places I've bombed - only the rough ones, like Caen, Rouen, Paris, Samur, Nantes, Duren, Metz, Liege, Euskirchen, Prum, and places we sneaked by Koblenz, Munster, Hamm, Cologne.
I remember Julich where two planes blew up ahead of me. I remember Liseaux where I saw three ships spin in on fire and three more hit. I remember Munstereifel where the flack didn't start until after the bombs left. The first bursts were away off and we were the lead plane in the group. Jim called me on the interphone and said "those bastards can't shoot anymore." And all of a sudden four bursts just missed us and we heard them break in that sound that will haunt me all my life - whoomp like someone cracking a big whip. I said, "yeh, but they're getting better fast." And we started wiggling all over the sky.
One time we were sneaking by Munster and I told Jim to turn thirty degrees left and he started turning right. I kept calling left and he kept going right towards Munster and Flack was breaking all around us. I said "left - Goddamn it you're going right," and he said, "oh, I'm sorry," like we were at a tea or something. We kidded him about that.
Sometimes I'd hear flak hit the ship and I'd turn around to see Dick's face. His eyes would be as big as saucers under his steel helmet and he'd be roaming over the instrument panel to see if we were in bad shape. I could tell exactly how bad things were by the look on his face.
Once we came back with 78 holes in the plane, our hydraulic system shot out and a flat tire. Jim plugged up the hydraulic lines with chewing gum and we landed with no brakes. The flat tire sent the plane going round and round on the runway and we left it like rats leaving a ship. It was at Caen, where we were shot down. A direct burst got us, knocked out the right engine and put a big hole in the left gas tank and a big hole in front of me. Jim called me up and I didn't answer. He thought I was dead until I came crawling out. Gosh - I'm getting all charged up just writing about them. I wouldn't trade the experiences, but I wouldn't do it all again.
Once fighters hit us and I looked out of the bomb sight to see nothing but tracers all around us. I thought I'd had it. Adelson called up after they'd left and could hardly talk. That was towards the end of our tour and the whole crew was jumpy. A ship was shot down right behind us. C'est la guerre.
But that's enough of that. I feel guilty writing all about it. It's been so long that things like that were verboten.
Sweat me out a while longer, my darling. I'll be a coming home before too long.
I love you,
Craig
* Lough Neagh
** ECA's younger brother
N8. Article written by ECA for the San Luis Obispo Senior Magazine in November, 1983
1st Lt William Connick
APO Eternity
Dear Bill,
This is an awfully long time to wait before writing you, but you have been on my mind lately. It must be because I've been waking up on the hour, every hour just as we used to do when we were on the "loading list" to fly a mission in the morning.
Here's a photo you never did get to see of you and Lively.* It was taken a few days before that happy day when you received the news of your first-born son. You were a happy man that day. I'm sorry the next day turned out the way it did,
Jim and I were slated to lead the group that day; you and Reuben were to lead the high flight in the first box. The trouble was weather. Just as we started down the runway, they shot off the red flares and delayed the mission. Only one plane was airborne - ours.
The fog had settled in and we couldn't land, so they sent us down to Laon where it wasn't socked in yet. We didn't get out of there for three cold days.
I found out what happened when we got back: you and Reuben took over our place in group lead when the fog lifted; the number three plane flew into you on form-up and you all died.** It would have been our plane. That parachute rigger told me about it - he said they picked you guys up in baskets. I'm afraid I got very drunk that night. I'm still terribly sorry it had to happen that way. It was the flip of the card, Bill. I lived and you died.
So you never did get to see your son, while I was able to return home, have a son and a daughter of my own and I've been able to watch them grow, mature and become adults of whom I am very proud, and I have lived to fall in love with two beautiful granddaughters. Your son is 38 now, and I am sure he is someone of whom you, too, are proud. I know he is proud of you even if he never knew you. He should be. You were a darn good bombardier and a very brave man.
If it is any consolation, you didn't die in vain, Bill. We defeated the bigotry and brutality that was Nazi Germany very soon after that. Franklin Roosevelt died soon after you did and I felt almost as bad as when you crashed. Harry Truman - you probably didn't even know about him - took over and did a wonderful job. There have been two terrible wars since then, but there is still bigotry and brutality in the world. Some of us are still fighting.
Yes, I'm terribly sorry it worked out that way for you, Bill. For me, it has been a wonderful and exciting life. I am still enjoying every minute of it. It's all been on borrowed time, thanks to you.
Say hello to Corbin, Skiscim, Irwin, Jones, Clevenger, Rizzuto, Walch, Williams, Martin and all the rest. Save a place at the bar for me up there. I still like scotch.
Best regards,
Craig Amspoker
* I have this photo
**Nine men died in this February 25, 1945 accident.
Interested in some background
information?
Check out the related links below...
394th Bomb Group Association, Reunion Details
B-26 Marauder Archive Home Page
394th Bomb Group Aircraft Illustration
Bill's B-26 Marauder Page Bulletin Board and Guestbook Archive
USAF Aircraft Serial Number Search
USAF Aircraft Serial Number Search Help
The
materials depicted on this page were reprinted with kind permission
of Mr. Mike Amspoker, the son of Mr. Craig Amspoker.
We, at the World War II Stories - In Their Own Words web site wish to offer to Mr. Mike Amspoker our most profound THANK YOU for sharing his memories of his Dad's experiences -- during World War II. We will always be grateful for Mr. Amsplker's contributions to the war effort and to the countless other men and women who put forth their "finest hour".
Original story transcribed from e-mail notations
received beginning 4 September 2007.
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