Heroes: the Army Air Corps
"...On July 15th we heard a terrific explosion. It seems that bombs were being unloaded from trucks at the 491st in the usual manner: back up fast and hit the brakes and let them all spill out. Only this time one went off and set off the whole bombdump, all 1200 tons of it, trucks were see flying in the air, four nearby aircraft were destroyed and instruments in every aircraft were damaged by the concussion. Windows were broken in Bungay, 8 miles away..."
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The Story of an Airplane and It's Crew
"What's Cookin' Doc" B-24 #42-110157
"What's Cookin' Doc ?"
B-24 Airplane No. 42-110157
Combat Crew 1022 first met on a troop train that left Salt Lake City Army Air Base soon after Thanksgiving of 1943 on their way to Davis Monthan Field near Tucson, AZ. It was here that they flew together for the first time. The crew consisted of Amos Bradley Dolliver, pilot; Richard L. Forney, co-pilot; Roland L. Hughes, navigator; Edward E. Williams, bombardier; Marion D. West, flight engineer; John R Hoidren, radio operator; Reuben Koustnip, assistant flight engineer and gunner; William A. Waldron, armorergunner; Ramiro J. Pompa, gunner; and George E. McLean, assistant radio operator and gunner. They would be known henceforth as Skipper, Dick, Robo, Willie Lumplump (a Red Skelton character),Witchie, Johnny, Reuben, Bill, Pappy and Mac. The troop train consisted of regular Pullman cars and converted boxcars with bunks 3 high with enlisted men in the former and officers in the latter.
Crew of
"What's Cookin' Doc"
Pictured from right to left
Front Row: J. R. Holdren, M. D. West, G. E. McLean, R. Koostrup, W.
A. Waldron
Back Row: A. B. Dolliver, R. L. Forney, R. L. Hughes, E. E. Williams.
Not shown: R. J. Pompa
While training at Davis Monthan we had a couple of interesting experiences While flying one night we experienced a runaway prop which required the engine to be shut down but the prop couldn't be feathered--it was the first landing of that type at night for the pilots. On an another night flight Hughes gave Dolliver a change of course; when Dolliver asked why, Hughes replied "There's a mountain up ahead that's about 3,000 feet higher than we are".
Davis-Monthan was a nice base where each squadron had its own mess hall and the food was very good by Army standards; we also celebrated Christmas there.
Not long after Christmas we boarded another train, this time heading for Pueblo, Colorado. Enroute to Pueblo we encountered a snowstorm which prevented the mess car from meeting the train. That morning we disembarked the train in Trinidad, Cobo, and proceeded to a church where the ladies had prepared breakfast for us. Naturally it was better than we would have had on the train. We waded through some pretty high drifts to get to the church.
We hadn't been at Pueblo Army Air Base too long when a blizzard came through and took down all the power lines to the base. We had no lights, no heat and no hot water. Nothing moved as the gas pumps didn't work, the air compressors didn't work, there was nothing to do except keep bundled up to stay warm. The mess halls had gas for cooking but no lights so they burned rags in dishes of kerosene on the tables for light. You had to eat fast because the soot looked like you had lots of pepper on your food.
Life at Pueblo wasn't so bad, except one day when practicing formation flying the air was extremely turbulent such that at least 3 or 4 members of each crew got airsick. Mac wound up holding 3 guys steady over the ammo can so they could puke their guts up so by that time they made him sick. He vomited just as the wheels touched the ground.
On another occasion Mac flew as photographer on a bombing training flight when he had a bad cold and wound up in the hospital for 2 weeks with infections in both ears. After the doctor lanced them he had hearing problems and then they put a guy with his broken jaw wired shut in the next bed. He did all the listening while Mac did all the talking.
A brand new B-24, aircraft No. 42-110157 was assigned to us and we designed the nose art. It was painted by a Mexican sign painter. Skipper had to sign a receipt for the aircraft
Prior to departing Pueblo, they gave us leave, some 15 days, some less. Pappy was the first enlisted man to return. As one from each crew was going over by the Queen Mary, he was the one from our crew and so wound up on the Q.M.
About this time, one night Witchie, while stoned, picked up this broad from the Goat Hill section of Pueblo and spent the night with her. In the sober light of day he recalled her appearance and became concerned that he may have picked up a disease. Skenov, Rock's navigator said he had a nurse that would, get something to take care of any problem The next day he gave Witchie a big bag of pills with instructions to take one every 4 hours, day and night.
Each aircraft was to take one member of the ground echelon with them and we wound up with Weaver Noband, Jr., a prop specialist who had never flown before. We left Pueblo at 1330 hours on April 27,1944 and arrived Herington, Kan. at 1645 hours, On leaving Pueblo, with Lt. Rock's crew, we received permission to buzz the field. We came down the parking apron flying between two rows of parked aircraft while Rock flew our wing just above the parked aircraft.
Before taking off, Skipper called his girl friend and told her we'd be flying over town to say good bye, We then proceeded to downtown Pueblo where, Skipper, at about 200 foot altitude or less, stood the plane in a steep bank and kept chopping the throttles to make the engines backfire to say goodbye to his girlfriend (now wife). It did cause a stir with the people on the street. We were low enough for she and Bill to recognize each other and wave to one another,
We buzzed all the way to Kansas, at one point pulling up over a locomotive so close that the aircraft filled with smoke. At one point we buzzed a farmyard where the mother was feeding her chickens, she looked up and waved and when she booked down all the chickens were airborne due to the propwash. The kids jumped up and down and waved, dad just held on to his hat. At another place we came up on two men working on a tractor in the field, as we approached them just a few feet off the ground they both dove into the dirt, Poor Weaver, he was scared to death, just sat on the floor in the waist and would rarely crawl over and look out the window at the fun we were having. We had to pull up to clear 3-strand barb-wire fences.
Rock chased a car with a couple of girls in it and got so low he broke the marker beacon antenna (located under the bomb bay) off by dragging it on the highway. After arriving at Herington, some chicken s___ Operations officer got Rock up in front of all of the 491st people there and told him to explain why his antenna, was missing. With a straight face and in a serious voice, he said that while the landing gear was retracting on take-off, the aircraft settled down on the runway and broke off the antenna and put some holes in the underside of the bomb bay cat walk. Everyone watching knew what happened and were glad they couldn't prove the truth.
We finally departed Herington at 0322 hours on May 8 and after a dull 8 hour and 32 minute flight arrived at Morrison Field at W. Palm Beach, FL, It was a beautiful base though somewhat C.S. Here all our shots were made current and we became immune to tetanus, typhoid, small pox, yellow fever and cholera, Also had another physical and dental check up. We also received training in how to spray the aircraft with insecticide (for mosquitoes).
At briefing before take-off we were told not to worry about clouds that look like thunderhead, just fly through them. We departed at 2315 hours on May 10 and opened our sealed orders immediately after takeoff to learn that our ultimate destination was England. During the night, those of us with nothing to do tried to sleep on the floor in the waist using our parachutes for pillows. Frequently during the course of the night we woke up about 6 to 12 inches off the floor, only to be slammed back down due to turbulence in the clouds
When we arrived at WaIler Field, Trinidad at 0916 hours on May 11, we felt like we had been beaten up by a bunch of thugs after all the bouncing during the night. When we went to the mess hall for breakfast we had quite a culture shock, local civilians were employed in the mess hall and these very black men spoke with a strong very British accent, not sounding like blacks in the U.S. [2]
We departed Wailer Field at 0500 hours on May 12 for Val de Cans (Belem, Brazil) and arrived there at l233 hours the same day.
At briefing the next morning, we were told to watch for a B-24 that they believed went down in the jungle between Belem and Natal. We then departed at 0739 hours on May 13, 1944 headed for Parnamiram Field, Natal, Brazil. We experienced some supercharger trouble along the way but arrived safely at 1320 hours While here, Reuben "appropriated" a better artificial horizon for the aircraft. (No sign of the missing B-24, it was finally located in 1995,)
After correcting the supercharger problem, we left Parnamiram Field at 0115 hours on May 16 for the long over water flight of 1350 miles to Eknes Field at Dakar, French West Africa and arrived there after a thankfully uneventful flight (although Witchie almost forgot to switch fuel tanks) at 1320 hours on May 16. Robo did a great job of navigating, we came right in on Eknes Field.
This was an interesting place, pretty primitive as far as transient accommodations were concerned. The only beer available at the PX was peanut beer, a new experience. Our sleeping quarters were folding canvas cots in a standard army pyramid tent with the sides rolled up and the door flaps open for ventilation, it's warm that close to the equator (we crossed it twice in 3 days). The paths were all covered with gravel, as was the tent floor, to reduce the muddiness when it rained.
We went to sleep with the sounds of jungle drums in the distance. Mac, sleeping with his head near the door, was awakened during the night by the sound of rustling gravel. When he opened his eyes, there standing over him was a native that appeared about 7 feet tall from his point of view, clad in what appeared to be an army mattress cover with holes cut for his arms and head. Holding an amulet of some type on a string over Mac's face, he said "Me make voodoo for you". Mac's reply was "Get out of here!" And Mac slept the rest of the night with his pistol in his hand.
Morning finally came and we left Ekes Field at 0715 hours on May 17 on our way to Marrakech AAF in French North Africa, landing there at 1416 hours. We were there for five days, several spent at the Red Cross Club, which was located near town and had been a gambling casino earlier, it was gorgeous, lots of white marble. Talk about poverty, little kids were collecting the scraps from our food trays in tin cans to take home, don't know how they got on the base.
With this much idle time, we spent a lot of time gambling among the crews. This was interesting as by now we had accumulated money from the U.S., Trinidad, Brazil, French West Africa and French North Africa and all of them would be used during the games at the same time. You would be amazed at how proficient we were at converting one currency to another.
At 0036 hours on May 22 we departed Marrakech AAF on the last leg of our journey to England. For the first time we realized our involvement in the shooting war as we now had ammunition in our guns and were told to be on the look out for German fighters on our way to St. Mawgon. After arriving there at 0937 hours, we left at 1545 and arrived at Base 366, Metfield at 1745 hours, May 22,1944. Our new home away from home.
It took a little while to get adjusted, the British had double summer time (daylight savings) and it didn't get dark until around ten o'clock at night. Standard voltage was 220 so you needed a calibrated resistor in order to use radios, etc. brought from home. The weather was mild and not too rainy, powdered eggs were served frequently for breakfast and mutton too often for dinner, but we survived, thanks to brown bread and marmalade. You also had to beam to like warm beer.
Bill frequently complained about feeling airsick while riding in the tail turret during our training flights at [3] Pueblo but never mentioned it again since he had the Germans to worry about.
On June 2 we got our first mission, a V- 1 launch site at St. Gabriel, it wasn't bad. In the wee hours of the morning the C.Q. would come through the hut calling out the names of the pilot's crews to fly and the times for breakfast, briefing, and take-off. After breakfast we assembled in the briefing room where a large map of Europe was covered with a sheet. When everyone was there, the G-2 (Intelligence) officer removed the sheet and on the map all the locations of flak guns were painted red, some areas looked like they had been bled on there was so much red. Also on the map was a red string held in place by thumbtacks which was the route into and out from the target. If you had to bail out, at least you had a idea of where in Europe you were (we carried escape maps printed on silk as paper wouldn't last if it got wet). After explaining the details, G-2 showed aerial photos of the target i.e. refinery, railroad yard, or whatever. After this the officers went to their special briefings and we went to suit up for flying and checkout the aircraft. Take-off was always a thrill because you knew that the aircraft was loaded up with all the bombs and gasoline it would carry and the runways weren't very long. You could judge how near you were to taking off by watching how the weight was lifting off of the landing gear as it would extend and the color of the runway lights as you approached the end of the runway.
On our return we'd go to interrogation where each crew would sit around a table with a G-2 and each man give his account of the mission; bombing accuracy, fighters how dense was the flak, how accurate, did you see any planes go down ? Which ones, where, how many men were able to bail out ? When this was over, we'd get our "tranquilizer", a shot of scotch, and head back to the hut to sack out until the next meal time.
The next day Hitler started sending the V-l "Buzz Bombs" over to England. They didn't bother us, the card games continued unless we heard the engine stop then we ran for the underground shelter.
One of Nolan Weaver's first big prop jobs was to change a prop that had been running when someone walked into it and was killed.
Base Defense consisted of a bunch of cal 50 machine guns set in concrete-filled 55 gal drums in the surrounding fields. These were manned by combat crew enlisted men all night The redeeming feature about being on base defense was that we got to eat in the ground crews' mess hall around midnight and if you were lucky, you might get beans which were never served in our mess hall because of potential gas problem at high altitude.
As luck would have it, we had base defense the night of June 4 so we got little or no rest that night nor sleep during the day of June 5th. That night as we were getting ready to go to bed, around 2230 hours, the C.Q. came through calling out crew names to fly and the times for breakfast, briefing, and take-off At briefing, we learned it was D-Day. We took off, formed, flew to the target area but did not drop due to clouds and the nearness of our troops.
We returned to base, went to interrogation, got out of our flight clothes and went to lunch. After lunch as we prepared to sack out, the C.Q. came through again cabling out crews, briefing and take-off times. So we went to briefing again, donned our flight clothes and took-off again. About the time we reached forming altitude, base called and said the mission was scrubbed (canceled). Skipper said "We're up here ready to go, do you want to return or join up with another group and get another mission behind us?" We opted to join up and keep going. It was after dark when we returned to base, our concern being that a German fighter may have followed us back and be ready to shoot us down as we landed As we went in to change out of our flight clothes, the rest of the group was putting theirs on for another mission We had spent a total of 13 hours and 10 minutes in the air on June 6th. By now we were completely exhausted from lack of sleep, as we had been without it for 3 days.
Long about this time, Witchie proudly announced that the pills must have worked as he didn't show any sign [4] of V.D. Skenov laughed and said" You've got to be the healthiest Son of a Bitch in England, you've been taking vitamins every 4 hours since we left Pueblo".
One day the men of the 855th Sqdn. were standing around waiting for a meeting when a stupid bombardier, sitting on a box, was fooling around with his .45 caliber automatic and it went off With a dumb look on his face, he stared at the holes in his pants leg and said "I think I shot myself'. Fortunately for him it only grazed his shin but his pilot was furious as he was taken off of flying status until it healed.
Toilet facilities back in the waist area left a lot to be desired. "They" consisted of a rubber hose with a funnel on one end and the other end extending through the side of the aircraft and known as a relief tube. It had two faults.;.because of the cold, it usually froze up before you were finished and then what do you do? and if it didn't freeze up, the liquid coming out of the end turned to a spray and the slipstream spread it all over the tailgunner's windshield causing serious vision problems. So we had an extra GI helmet which we would use and then set it aside where it quickly froze. Just before landing, we'd knock it loose into the bomb bay and on touchdown when the doors were opened, the yellow ice would skate down the runway at around 90 miles an hour.
On each mission, Bill would have to be helped out of the tail turret to relieve himself before crossing the battle line. One day he asked Pappy why he never had to get out and Pappy said he took an empty bomb fuse can, used it, then set it on the floor of the turret where it soon froze solid since the temperature was about &emdash;50 degrees C. Bib liked the idea so next time he carried a bomb fuse can into his tail turret, Again he asked to be helped out of the turret as usual. He called Pappy and said the can was too small, Pappy said" You got a nose fuse can, Bib, you should have gotten a tail fuse can, they're lots bigger".
One morning we were awakened by a loud explosion indicating a plane had crashed on take-off with a full load of fuel and bombs. One fellow told us how the blast blew the roof of a remote latrine and the occupant came running out, said he didn't think a guy could run so fast with his coveralls all around his ankles.
Reuben had a quiet demeanor, normally with a friendly grin on his face. His unique characteristic was that the last thing at night, after getting into his bunk, he'd put out his cigarette and take his cap off First thing in the a.m., he put his cap on and light a cigarette (Sad to say, lung cancer took him in 1991)
It was after our 6th mission that Williams announced that the stress was just too much and he was getting off the crew. He was assigned as a supply officer at another base and we never saw him again.
It was after our eighth. mission on June 17 that we learned that we were being reassigned to the 329 B. S. of the 93rd B. G. at Hardwich, one of the oldest B-24 outfits in England. Originally commanded by now Gen. Ted Timberlake (the youngest general since the Civil War, 12 years out of West Point). It had been transferred to Africa a couple of times, went on the famous Ploesti raid, and was known as "Ted's Traveling Circus".
And somewhere around this time, good old "What's Cookin' Doc ?" was sent to the 466th B.G. performing admirably and completing about 117 missions (possibly the record). Cleon Gleason and crew completed their tour between 2/6 and 4/25/45 then Donald Klang 's crew did 12 missions when the war in Europe ended. John Horan and crew brought it back to the U.S. where it went on a War Bond promotion at Willow Run, Mich. where it was built. In the meantime, it had been to Keil, Bremen, Munich, and Berlin.
The 329th was a squadron of lead crews trained for G-H blind bombing which was more accurate than bombing by radar, When Dolliver, Forney and Hughes completed their training, we flew our 9th mission (1 st as a lead crew) on July 4, 1944. As a lead crew, we lead various 2nd Air Division groups on bombing raids. On one mission we were the lead aircraft of the entire 8th Air Force, not one plane in front of us but thousand behind; quite a sight. [5]
On July 15th we heard a terrific explosion. It seems that bombs were being unloaded from trucks at the 491st in the usual manner: back up fast and hit the brakes and let them all spill out. Only this time one went off and set off the whole bombdump, all 1200 tons of it, trucks were see flying in the air, four nearby aircraft were destroyed and instruments in every aircraft were damaged by the concussion. Windows were broken in Bungay, 8 miles away. For several day air traffic over the area was a problem due to sightseeing. In August the 49lst moved to North Pickenham.
G-H equipment had a limited range and with it located in Britain, we couldn't go past France. With the invasion forces moving across France, they moved it to the French coast. By the time it was set up, the armies had moved past its range; so they had to move it again to near the German border. Consequently we didn't fly a mission between August 2 and October 12, the moving days.
The 93rd felt that ball turrets were not needed and had them removed and Mac moved up the a waist position. We still had no regular bombardier yet so we had a parade of guys fill that slot and usually had an extra navigator in the nose turret so Pappy moved to the waist and Reuben flew top turret. Otherwise Reuben flew waist with Witchie in top turret.
Via the grapevine we learned that Rock's plane was shot down. Four were captured and the rest spirited away by the French underground. Imagine our surprise a few months later while on a 3 day pass in London, sitting in a Red Cross club drinking coffee, in walk the members of Rock's crew that the French had rescued. It was almost as if ghosts had walked in. After the war, they returned to France to visit their saviors.
On 10/26, 11/1,11/2 we had three rough ones in a row to oil refineries in the Ruhr valley, the most heavily defended area in Germany, 3500 heavy guns. G-H bombing requires a straight and level flight path to the target which takes 15 to 20 minutes of flying through that kind of barrage, watching others get hit and wondering if you're next. It was very stressful. At one of the briefings, to make us feel better, the briefing officer said "After so many rounds they have to replace the barrels" and a voice in the back said "Yes, but they're making them just across the street".
On about October 28th we were transferred to409th B. S. of the 93rd B.G. Everything in Britain was rationed, including the coal to heat the hut. The route from our hut to the mess hail went past the main coal pile. If the gate was open, we'd go in and pick up the biggest piece you could carry and brought it back to the hut. We had coal stashed everywhere, even under our beds, pieces a foot thick by two feet long. Fortunately, we never had a barracks inspection. Dry cleaning shops were virtually non-existent. When we needed to clean our wool uniforms, we'd go out by the flightline and slosh them around in a drum of 100 octane gasoline then hang them up outside for a couple of days. As one doctor said, "It's a wonder you didn't die of lead poisoning".
On mornings when we were to fly a mission, we were supposed to get fresh eggs for breakfast but usually got the same old green dried eggs. For lunch during the mission (when did you have time to eat ?) we'd get a box lunch consisting of a sandwich (2 slices of dry bread and a slice of bologna), an orange, a candy bar and an issue of K-rations. We'd throw away the sandwich since at 50 below it wasn't edible but save everything else except the candy bar which we could eat. Our cooks, however, were happy to sell the fresh eggs to us at $0.25 each and we bought up to 3 dozen at a time. Frequently at night after hours of cards, we'd fry up our eggs in butter (stolen from the mess hall) along with the canned meat in the K-rations and have them with bread and marmalade (also stolen from the mess hall.) For $25 the cooks 'ld serve you a full course baked chicken dinner late at night. When some of the cooks got pulled into the infantry to fight the Battle of the Bulge, we cheered them off
On one mission we watched a V-2 rocket disappear into space on it's way to Britain. While in London on a [6] pass, you'd hear a big explosion then a very loud "woosh", that was the sound of it coming in supersonic. As the lady said, "If you can hear it coming in, then it missed you so why worry about them ?".
On another a B-24 with 2nd Division markings was flying a good distance off to our left at the same speed, altitude and heading. We reported this to our command pilot who send our fighter escort over to challenge them for the colors of the day. They didn't have the right answer so the P-S Is proceeded to shoot it down.
At this point Joe Dondero became our permanent bombardier.
One day Mac was sitting astride his bunk writing a letter. (Bunk: a narrow steel frame with wire and springs and since all the good steel went into the war effort, the springs were stretched and all the beds sagged. Atop the sagging springs were three thin squares known as biscuits which comprised the mattress. If you tossed too much during the night, the biscuits separated and you wound up on the springs.. All in all, it was much better than a fox hole) The only other person in the hut at that time was a couple of bunks away fooling with his .45 automatic and it went off The bullet ricoched off the floor under Mac's behind, 24 inches higher would have been fatal. Needless to say, the guy was very apologetic and Mac's response was "The German's don't need your help shooting at me".
On 12/12, mission #26, a bunch of 100 # bombs got hung up in the bomb bay after bring released. Mac picked up a "walk-around" oxygen bottle, and with no parachute went out on the 12" wide catwalk in the open bomb bay and began throwing them out by hand. The effort used up the oxygen very rapidly and when he returned to the waist; they looked at him in horror and rushed to connect him to the ship's supply. Said they'd never seen any one so purple in their lives. On another mission, he went into bomb bay as before to kick out some 500# bombs. He wasn't trying to be heroic, it's just that the right waist gunner was closest to the bomb bay. But it did make life interesting.
Mac was hitchhiking into Norwich one day and saw this vehicle approaching where upon he promptly put out his thumb. When he recognized it as a staff car with a star on the license he promptly with drew it. The vehicle stopped, the rear door opened and General Timberlake invited him in He inquired about Mac's well being, his experiences and the like, then dropped Mac off at his destination in Norwich It's no wonder he was so popular with his men.
One day Bill, Pappy and Mac decided to get a close up look of the group landing after a mission. They stood about 200 feet from the runway at the point where most of them touched down. While they stood there watching, one aircraft, which apparently had a 250 lb. bomb hung up in the rack, made a hard landing and the bomb came sliding across the grass in their direction. They immediately flopped down in the grass for what seemed an eternity before jumping up and running like hell to get away from it. And never went back for a close up look at the landings.
One strict rule was that there was to be no talking on the inter-coin during the bomb run as the pilot and navigator were in constant communication regarding course corrections. One day a full-bird colonel command pilot asked Dick "How's the formation look ?" and Skipper said "Shut up !" and Rollo said "Get off the God damned intercom !" They were called on the carpet for that but when the inquiry was concluded, it was the colonel that got lectured about his behavior.
About the middle of December we were one of the crews sent to pick up the great Glen Miller "Band of the AEF" to entertain at the 93rd BG. Some of the members we had on board had played with the NY Symphony which shows the quality of musicians that made up the group. Ray McKinley came as the band leader as Glen had gone over to the continent to make arrangements for the band to tour over there. Glen Miller was never heard from again. What a loss.
On the evening of December 18 we checked the next day's flight schedule and we were listed. The CQ [7] came through the next morning but didn't call us out so we rolled over and went back to sleep Later we heard a big explosion and knew that one had crashed on take-off We were surprised to learn later that it was our aircraft, 957-P. and worse yet, were shocked to learn that the guys shared our hut. It got really depressing when the HQ crew came to collect their personal belongings. The 24 of us in the hut were a family of sorts, we ate together, showered together, gambled together, laughed together and shared things from home. In just a matter of 3 or 4 hours, 6 of us were gone, one fourth of the family. Visibility was about 50 feet due to fog and they didn't clear the trees just beyond the runway. We had to fly over the crash site on the rest of our missions.
As a blind bombing lead crew, we didn't fly when the target area weather was good so they kept sending us enlisted men to ground school almost ever day despite all our experience.
For a Christmas gift, Skipper, Dick, Rollo and Joe bought a number of bottles of wine at the Officers Club and brought it over to us, it was quite a treat. Of course we shared it with everyone in the hut, after all, we were all in the war together.
Shortly before Christmas, Mac gave a parachute rigger $25 to get a bottle of whiskey for him.
Then on Christmas Day we took off to bomb the rail yard at Hallschlag with our newly acquired squadron commander, Major Murray G. Fant, on board as command pilot. (While putting on our flying gear, Mac was talking to John Pique, a friend from home that attended the same church and was a bombardier in another sqdn. Mission counts came up and John said it was his last one. His plane was shot down and he had to bail out behind the German lines and had to make his way through them into friendly territory It took days and he was at church the first Sunday Mac was home)
While we were on the bomb run approaching the target a piece of flak (Flieger Abwher Kanone- German for anti-aircraft cannon) caused an oil leak in #3 engine. There wasn't time for the deputy lead to take over so Skipper kept the power on #3 and right after bombs away the engine froze and the prop could not be "feathered". This caused additional drag on the aircraft. Then we had supercharger trouble and lost about half power on #1. Later to make matters worse, we had prop governor trouble on #4 and lost more power. To maintain fighter protection, Skipper elected to sacrifice altitude for speed to stay under the group. After a while the "bail-out bell" sounded: we asked Skipper what he was going to do and he said he'd ride it down. We said "We'll ride it with you".
Later Skipper asked if we wanted to try the last 20 miles over the English Channel in the crippled plane and got a resounding NO. No one wanted to take a chance on drowning at this point in their tour and besides, we'd heard all kinds of stories about the fun other crews had in France.
Among the problems we now encountered was the fact that the flaps and landing gear could no longer be operated hydraulically so it was necessary to crank then down by hand which was time consuming and a bit strenuous. The clouds were about 200 feet high so Skipper circled the ex-Luftwaffe fighter base one time then lined up on a church and a tree and landed that big plane on the grass, the runways had been destroyed by the 8th A. F. earlier. In order to let our base know where we were, we tied the 100 ft. long trailing wire antenna to a life-vest for insulation, and with Skipper standing out in the rain holding it, Johnny tried to contact the base but failed. (He later realized that he had forgotten to switch to that antenna.) The #2 engine had been running so long in the "Emergency Power" setting that it had to be replaced.
We got no dinner that evening. We were loaded into a truck with a Frenchman driving there at Cambrai and were trucked to Laon. Robo, riding up front with the Skipper and driver, noticed that we were headed toward the front. He told Skipper what was happening where upon Skipper stuck his pistol in the driver's ribs and told him to head the other way. The next morning before Fant could get out of bed, Pappy rushed over to Fant's bunk, saluted, and said "I'm sorry, but I can't make it to ground school today, Sir!" Each day [8] he repeated the performance.
We took all the scarce and secret equipment from the plane with us: Bill had all the heavy flack suits, Skipper had the bombsight and Mac was assigned to take care of the 1FF box. This box had an explosive charge in it to go off on impact so it would be destroyed if it crashed in enemy territory. He rode with it in his lap in the back of a 6 X 6 truck, bouncing along the back roads of France, never knowing if the next pothole would set it off and emasculate him.
The next day we were trucked to a chateau in Mezieres that had been headquarters for some German staff officers which now served as "hotel" for aircrews like us. Everyone grabbed a bed for sleeping but Joe and Mac weren't as fast as the other and missed out on the standard bunks. The only place left for them was the top floor room normally reserved for visiting generals; the others envied them when they saw their quarters. The Germans knew about the place and every so often a German fighter would come looking for it at night. We could hear the artillery fire in the distance and we also heard General Patton's army of tanks on the road near by on their way to Bastogne to participate in the Battle of the Bulge
* CheckBoxl
The food served there was all GI, mostly C rations however French ladies did all the food preparation and the food was excellent. One day we walked into town and wound up near the railroad yards where a bunch of men were repairing the bomb damaged tracks; they looked at us with scowls on their faces, Rollo found one that spoke German as none of us spoke French and asked why the dirty looks. He replied that we had done the damage but Robo, always quick with an answer, told him that, no, the RAE did it. The Frenchman then told his friends and the looks turned to smiles. When we asked if it was true, he said no, we had done it three weeks ago.
One evening after dinner we wandered down the road to a nearby cafe which happened to have a pool table and spent the evening shooting pool. However we weren't drinking beer as you would in the U.S., we drank champagne the proprietor had kept hidden from the Germans.
It was a pleasant stay but with no clean socks or underwear, we began to smell even if it was winter. Finally on New Years Eve they had a plane ready for us to take back to England. On returning to base, Mac went in search of his whiskey and found the rigger, named Rooney (from NO.), who said he planned to drink it up tonight to celebrate New Years. He really didn't know if Mac was alive or dead.
We were never scheduled for ground school again.
Our latrines were small unheated brick structures housing 2 or 3 commodes. Britian was experiencing its coldest winter in 50 years with lots of snow on the ground. Answering nature's call was a very chilling experience, however we devised a routine to cope with it; before sitting down spray the seat with lots of lighter fluid then light it. This warmed the seat slightly and as one fellow put it,"It also killed the crabs".
Finally came mission No. 30, the last at last ! And wouldn't you know... on January l3th ! But a Saturday, not Friday. And how many men onboard the aircraft... count'em. .13 ! But no worry, the target is just a bridge across the river at Worms and the only defense is one four-gun battery, should be a milk-run. Johnny had finished up one mission ahead of us so Mike Donahue filled in as radio operator. (Later said he'd not have gone if he knew about 13 men on board and on the 13th) The target bothered Joe Dondero as there were churches on each end of the bridge and he didn't want to destroy them.
Right after "Bombs away" they fired their first salvo and were they good! The plane lurched from the blast and it sounded like someone had thrown a handful of rocks at a tin shed. Joe said he was hit, Rollo said he was hit, and Pappy, standing almost back-to-back with Mac, turned and looked at Mac and said, "I think my [9] leg is broken". There below the skirt of his flack suit was a big hole in his pants leg. Joe and Rollo were not injured, the flak ricocheted off their equipment. We found the piece of flak in the waist area: it was half an inch square and four inches long. A big piece.
Image of the
piece of shrapnel that was taken from Pappy's leg.
In order for Mac to give Pappy a shot of morphine for pain, first he had to defrost it by holding it in his mouth which wasn't easy while wearing an oxygen mask. With Dick's help, they gave him the shot, put a toumiquet on his leg and got him into a heated casualty bag (not the kind for the deceased).
As soon as we crossed the battle line, Skipper turned the group over to the deputy lead and stuck the nose down without reducing power and redlined the air speed indicator. Approaching the field we fired red-red flares indicating wounded and had the ship on the ground before the flares hit the ground.
Pappy had a compound fracture above the knee and it was tough leaving him behind in the hospital. He wound up spending 10 months in hospitals and had several operations. When he had recovered enough to travel, he was sent to the Army hospital nearest his home which happened to be an infantry base. He was the only Air Force guy in the ward. He had a large family and when they came to see him, they also visited everyone else in the ward. It reached the point that when the others heard his family was coming, they wanted clean gowns, their hair combed, etc. in anticipation. He said he was the most popular guy in the hospital because of his family. It left him with a trick knee which ended him career as a professional dancer.
Major Fant offered us a week's leave in London, which we accepted. Then it was to an Air Transport Command base in Scotland for the flight to La Guardia in NY and a truck ride to Fort Totten, Long Island where we split up to return to our real families.
During the entire time that Skipper was our Aircraft Commander he never took any alcoholic drinks, he gave his "after mission" shots to us so each of us used to try to stand next to him in hopes of getting his shot of scotch
And why did Mac pick the ball turret ? It looked like fun to a kid just turned 19.
The bombers of the 8th Army Air Force were never prevented from carrying out their missions no matter how fierce the Germans fought with flak and fighters.
Looking back, it's remarkable that ten complete strangers could become such a cohesive group where each felt complete confidence in all the others to do their jobs to the utmost of their ability without any feeling of rank; doing what the Aircraft Commander expected of them without being told.
"...our tribute of respect and admiration to the officers and men who fought and died in this fearful battle of the air, the like of which had never before been known, or even with any precision imagined. The mortal tests to which the crew of a bomber were subjected reached the limits of human valour and sacrifice. Here chance was carried to its most extreme and violent degree above all else..."
Winston Churchilll
Still around at Christmas 2002 are Skipper, Bill, Pappy and Mac.
West died December 1980
Koustrup died in 1991
Holdren died in 2002
Hughes died in 1983
Williams died August 1993
Dondreo died in 2000
[10]
-----George E. McLean
The
materials depicted on this page were reprinted with kind permission
of the subject of our story -- George E. McLean.
We, at the World War II Stories - In Their Own Words web site wish to offer to Mr. George E. McLean. our most profound THANK YOU for his poignant story of his personal experiences -- during World War II and especially for allowing us to share those memories. We will always be grateful for Mr. McLean's contributions to the war effort and to the countless other men and women who put forth their "finest hour".
Interested in some background
information?
Check out the related links below...
Among the Columns of Thor (Artwork)
The Sword and the Ploughshare (Artwork)
Dedicated to My Dad: Dr. Bill Fitzsimmons
C. Arthur Ferwerda's Home Page
Markings of the 8th USAAF Bombardment Groups based in East Anglia
USAF
Aircraft Serial Number Search
USAF Aircraft Serial Number Search Help
Original story written by Mr. George E. McLean and
submitted to us on 26 April 2004
Story added to website on --------
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September 5,
2002.
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