In this episode of Gaspar's History Podcast, we continue the Meadhound series with Episode 2, The First Mission. It is December 1942 and we are in Thurley, England with the 423rd Heavy Bomb Squadron. The war is taking a turn for the Nazis and the Allied bombing campaign is proving to be devastating. 2nd Lieutenant David Steele and his crew are getting ready for their first mission, targeting the Luftwaffe Repair Facility at Romilly-Sussein. They face challenges and uncertainties, but they are determined to do their duty. The mission involves flying at high altitude and flying in formation with other planes. It is a long and tiring day, but they are ready to face whatever comes their way.
Welcome back. This is Gaspar's History Podcast, and we are continuing the Meadhound series with Episode 2, The First Mission. It is mid-December 1942, and we are in Thurley, England with the 423rd Heavy Bomb Squadron, which is attached to the 306th Bomb Group. The war has started to take an ominous turn for the Nazis. A whole German army has been surrounded at Stalingrad, and the Desert Rats are chasing the Afrika Korps west. France remains under German occupation, and American and British bombers have started a bombardment campaign on German infrastructure in France.
History will reveal just how devastating and disruptive the Allied bombing campaign was on the Nazi war machine, but like most things in war, it came at a very high price. Back in Seattle, aircraft number 4229524 is still sitting on the tarmac, waiting for her exotic trip to England. Maybe it was her trip that made Jimmy Stewart want to go the same way. Maybe, but I suppose it was because it was a safer route. I mean, what would we do if angels never got their wings, or Liberty Valets never get shot? The Mission.
It is December 12, 1942, and the weather has cleared a bit. The 423rd Heavy Bomb Squadron has received replacement flyers, 2nd Lieutenant David Steele and his friends. The squadron has been given the order to resume flying operations. Today's primary bombing target is the Luftwaffe Repair Facility at Romilly-Sussein, and if that target is unattainable, then let's try the Le Cublet, or the last resort, which is the marshalling yards at Rennes. Steele did not sleep much the night before, or into the morning.
He wrote a quick letter to his dad, and one to his girlfriend. He wondered if it would be the last, but he kept the tone light, not wanting to concern them. Like most others, his nerves were plentiful. A lot goes through one's head the night before a mission, and the mind can move at a million miles an hour. There are thoughts of home, family, loved ones, but also of the team, accountabilities, and not letting others down.
One wonders how one will react when adversity strikes, and if they will be able to do their duty. There is a lot of bravado in a twenty-year-old male, but that is just talk. How one will react when a fight actually occurs is never known. It is interesting, though, how it is usually the Desmond Dosses of the world who show others how it should be. If you ever get a chance, you should go see Desmond Doss's grave in Chattanooga, Tennessee, and pay your respects.
Steel was up by 3 a.m., but he had already been up. He got dressed, ate some breakfast, but he was not too interested in eating, so he just picked around it. He was trying to keep everything in order. He knew he was flying with an experienced pilot and crew, even though the crew had not flown together before, which was always a challenge. Steel was flying with Lieutenant Uncle Bill Warner, a veteran who had been with the squadron since its inception in March of 1942.
My time with World War II Army Rangers and other veterans has taught me that those soldiers who were in units from the beginning held tighter bonds than those that did not. There was always something about the fraternity with the foundational men of a unit. Unfortunately, by the end of the war, those men were few and far between. I also learned that replacements earned their stripes and became part of the fold after baptisms of fire. Lieutenant Warner was 28 years old, which made him older than most of the squadron.
He was from the state of Connecticut. He was slender, clean-shaven, a young man with a happy infectious smile. As he sat in the briefing room with his hat askew, he wondered about Steel, his new co-pilot and replacement for the day, especially on such a long mission into France. The pilots listened as the mission was revealed and detailed. There was usually a groan from the crews when the mission was revealed, no matter the mission. There was just varying degrees of moaning depending on the complexity, the target, and the history.
The plan was to use 18 aircraft and crews from three of the four 306th Bomb Group squadrons, the 368th, 369th, and 423rd. The 367th would sit today's mission out, but they did loan a pilot, Lieutenant Riordan, to the 423rd. They would fly at high altitude, 20 to 21,000 feet. Warner and Steel would be at 21,000 feet and in the high position of the formation. High-altitude flying was preferred since a low-level attack on the Saint-Nazaire submarine pen the month before, but that's a story for another day, or at least one that gets weaved into missions going forward.
The 18 aircraft were B-17F Flying Fortresses, a plane that Steel knew like the back of his hand. Even though Steel was comfortable and confident in the B-17, he knew today would be different. He knew the B-17s were the most recent versions with several upgrades, but they still had some weaknesses. The Boeing B-17 had been designed and first built in the 1930s. It made a strong first impression and was clearly the right choice for the bomber of the future, but then it suffered a catastrophic engine failure in one of its final tests.
The contract was therefore awarded to another company, but a few B-17s were commissioned so that testing may continue. The decision to continue the B-17 development proved to be a good one because ultimately the B-17 became the staple of the 8th Air Force in the European Air War. Having been an air cadet, Steel certainly had some interest in the history of the B-17, but his bigger interest was how that history would have an impact on the plane he was flying today.
He knew that the B-17 had some deficiencies and that the Luftwaffe pilots were readily aware of them. Flying Fortress by name makes one feel pretty good. That name had been attached to the B-17 on its maiden test flight by Seattle Times reporter Richard Williams, no relation that I know of, after he saw the large number of machine guns installed on the aircraft. Steel knew that Flying Fortress was only a name and that that name would do nothing for you in combat.
It was the crew that made the Flying Fortress sing and today the crew he was flying with was new. The pilots listened as it was announced that Major Lanford of the 368th Squadron would be leading the 306th Bomb Group on this fateful day. The 306th was expected to fly 18 aircraft that would be stacked in formation with the lead squadron center forward. Then one squadron would be stacked high and one squadron would be stacked low. This formation provided the best defense for the bomb group.
Picture in your mind close formation flying with aircraft at different angles. The 306th would build a matrix of sorts that provided a web of firing angles for defense. It also provided a broad set of eyes, views, and vision from which to see and assess danger. The 306th would also be tucked in behind the 305th and they would be in front of the 303rd Bomb Group, I think. The mission's flight path was reviewed. It was straightforward, Steel thought.
There were just a bunch of names he was not familiar with. From Thurley, the flight would take them south and east over Beachy Head, which sounded like a pretty nice place, then just south of Bouvet, France towards Romilly-Soussane. After the bomb run, which is a specific process, the 306th would return south of Paris, then north and west to Rhone, make a bomb run if the primary targets were avoided, then head north and west to Beachy Head, and then back home.
The mission is about 600 nautical miles and at a cruising speed of 150 miles an hour, the mission would take four hours of combat flying time. The actual flying time would be much longer due to takeoffs, landings, and getting into formation. Steel's mind raced through the flight path. The primary target was 100 kilometers southeast of Paris and Spitfire fighter cover would end at the French coastline due to the short range of the fighters. There, the Bomb Group would be met by the Luftwaffe, not really the welcome to France he had expected as a kid growing up in Greenville, Texas, which is just south of Paris's sister city, Paris, Texas.
From Dieppe on the French coastline, Romilly-Soussane was 250 kilometers away, which meant that they would face 250 kilometers of Luftwaffe escorts into the target, plus another 250 kilometers of Luftwaffe escorts out of the target. It was going to be a long day, and he had had little sleep, which was his own fault, of course. Think of what it's like being in a stressful situation, whether it is at home or at work. Think about how you feel and how tired it makes you.
These young men were flying long missions in large aircraft under very stressful situations, which, as you can imagine, wears on you. Hollywood makes everything so glamorous, and frankly, audiences would get bored watching a Bomb Group get into formation. In fact, maybe you're bored just listening to it. But is it something you've ever thought about? Probably not, and don't spend too much time thinking about it now. Just know that it takes time to launch 18 planes, get them to altitude, and then into formation with 36 other planes.
It was important to get the aircraft into the air and into formation as quickly and safely as possible, so it was not uncommon for takeoffs to be every 15 seconds or so. That's a pretty tight variance, with nominal room for errors. To the planes. The call was given for crews to get to the planes. As we know, 42-29524 was still in Seattle, so today, 2nd Lieutenant Steele would be Lieutenant Warner's co-pilot in 42-25180. She was an olive drab F-beauty.
Was she named? Indeed she was. She was named DFC, which stood for Distinguished Flying Cross. 2nd Lieutenant Steele's first mission would be aboard the DFC. Another foreshadow? Maybe. Warner and Steele arrived by her side in an old Willis Jeep. Funny thing is, it really wasn't that old, because in 1942, they were new. It just seems appropriate to say an old Willis. To Steele, this was all new. To Warner, well, it was old hat. Warner's crew was assembled at the plane.
The ground crew was hard at work putting the finishing touches on the plane and going through their final checklist. Uncle Bill introduced Steele to the team. It was also a new crew to Uncle Bill, since this team had never flown together and had been pieced together last minute, so they may fly today. Many of you may be into sports, team sports, and may have even played team sports growing up. Additionally, many of you may work on teams and must deal with the team dynamics on a daily basis.
Therefore, you can appreciate the hours of practice or norming and storming teams go through to master their craft. For the B-17 crew of DFC on this day, there'd been no practice, no norming, no storming, no training together, and today they would fly a life and death mission. A mission where mistakes are unforgiving and the consequences are eternal. It's safe to say the crew was looking at each other thinking, who are these cats? Lieutenant William Boggs is the navigator and he is as green as Steele, but they knew each other because they were replacements and had come in on the truck the day before.
Lieutenant Chester May is the bombardier. In addition to Warner and Steele, May and Boggs, they were the other two officers on the DFC. On the radio is Tech Sergeant Eddie Espitalier. Staff Sergeant Claiborne Wilson is the engineer, and he is on the top turret gun. The thankless position of ball turret gunner is Sergeant Walter Morgan. He's originally from Minnesota, but was working in an aircraft factory in Portland at the beginning of the war. The waist gunners, right waist gunner is Staff Sergeant Colin Neely, and the left waist gunner is Staff Sergeant Robert Kiswin.
Espitalier, Wilson, and Neely had flown with Lieutenant Warner on that fateful October 9th day, the first mission. May, Counts, and Morgan, they flew that day too, but with other crews. It was not uncommon for crews to be mixed and to fly different aircraft on different missions. The fact is, attrition took both the crews and the aircraft, and many times you had to fly with who was available and in which aircraft was ready. Even though Uncle Bill Warner was a lieutenant, he was the captain of the crew, and with that came a significant responsibility.
The Army Air Corps published a combat crew captain's handbook as a guide and a reminder to the captains of their responsibilities. On the 12th of December 1942, Uncle Bill broke down his handbook as follows, Steele, the co-pilot, is the potential crew captain, so make them your understudy for everything that you do. That's a good idea, since this is Steele's first day in combat. This also serves as a reminder that the captain of the ship may not be around even to finish the mission.
Hmm, I wonder if there's any foreshadowing here. Lieutenant Boggs, the navigator, is more important in combat than in training. He is considered the brains of the outfit, and he will man a gun when the fighting ensues. The bombardier, Chester May, he will take control of the ship on the bomb run. He will also man a gun when the Luftwaffe attacks, and at times he will navigate. The top turret gunner, Wilson, is the most important defender in the aircraft, so he is also the plane's engineer.
The battalion, the radio operator, can get you home when the navigation equipment is down. Eddie is also in the central part of the aircraft, which means he will man a gun, he will make repairs, and he will apply first aid if anyone gets hit. Morgan, the Minnesotan, with aviation building experience, he's going to be in the ball turret gunner position. He's going to be cold, uncomfortable, in a very precarious position. It's also important to remember he will usually fire more bullets than anyone else, which makes him critical to defense.
The waist gunners, Neely and Kisling, they will man guns, apply first aid, and they will be the assistant engineers, while also being the backup radio operators if Eddie were to get hit. Bringing up the rear, literally, is the tail gunner, Counts. He is critical to the plane's defense, while also being the eyes and the ears for the pilots. Counts will be able to see the formations, positions, and provide statuses that Warner and Steele cannot see. Uncle Bill knows the B-17 is nothing but a machine, a piece of equipment.
It is the crew, the Steeles, Boggs, Mays, Espitaliers, Wilsons, Morgans, Neelys, Kislings, and Counts that make it go. For me, it is why the human interest story is so interesting. Warner and Steele then progressed through their inspection around the ship. Steele was hoping the fine fortress could live up to her name. The DFC had twelve guns for defense. Wilson, top ball turret, Morgan, bottom ball turret, and Counts, tail gunner, would each be manning two .50 caliber Browning machine guns.
Neely and Kisling, the waist gunners, Espitalier, May, and Boggs would each man one .50 caliber Browning machine gun. While inspecting the nose of the ship, Steele wondered if they would be attacked from the front because the defenses were actually light there. And then he thought, well, that's where I would attack. DFC did have one nose left and one nose right .50 caliber Browning machine gun. And then there was a center .30 caliber Browning machine gun, but that was the only gun that could fire directly to the front.
And even though it was a good gun and effective in ground combat, it was awfully inadequate for air defense. And he was right. As he continued around DFC, Steele could see the scars of war. Mainly flak holes, those uneven, jagged moles patched over with aluminum plates that were the B-17's cancer. Flak was far more deadly than Luftwaffe pilots, and the only defense was altitude, which was not always a luxury. The DFC, like other B-17s, had a wingspan of just under 104 feet and was just under 75 feet long.
This was certainly the biggest plane Steele had ever flown. And for comparison, most people are familiar with the Boeing 737-300 that Southwest Airlines flies along with other companies. The Boeing 737-300 is 95 feet wide and 110 feet long. So by comparison, the planes were fairly similar, with the B-17 having a longer wingspan due to its four engines, but the Boeing 737-300 is considerably longer if you believe 35 feet is considerably, of course. Steele looked over the four 1,200 horsepower engines, which could deliver a top speed of 287 miles per hour and a cruising speed of 150 miles per hour.
They look good, but the stress of war takes its toll, so hopefully they would hold up. He also knew that his plane had a range of 3,750 miles, New York to Los Angeles is 2,500 miles, and that meant that they would out distance their fighter protection, the Spitfires, which would leave them at the coast. The checklists were complete, the planes were loaded, and so the flying part of the mission begins. Major Lanford of the 368th Squadron would launch first and then the other aircraft would tuck into position.
Major Lanford was an original member of the squadron and an experienced veteran pilot. Warner and Steele taxied behind Captain Mack McKay, who was leading the 423rd Squadron. Warner and Steele would fly in the number two slot of the lead group next to Captain McKay. The 423rd Squadron would put six planes in the air today, and they all formed up heading towards their first navigation point. It was not long before Steele realized the bomb group was not going to have its full complement of 18 ships, as aircraft started to turn back with mechanical issues.
Warner was quick to remind Steele to be on the lookout for turning back aircraft and to shore up formation if lead planes were lost. The 368th Squadron, under Major Lanford's command, was able to get five aircraft into the mission. The 367th Squadron was not so lucky, as they would only get four of their planes in the air, but what was worse was three of them were forced to turn back due to mechanical issues. The 423rd Squadron put six aircraft in the air, but they would lose Lieutenant Urey also due to mechanical trouble, and he was forced to turn back just before they had crossed the channel.
All of the broken aircraft were saved, and there were no emergency landings or forced landings. As the 306th Bomb Group crossed the English Channel, Tail Gunner Staff Sergeant Charles Counts was able to call out the aircraft still in formation, and when Steele counted the lead elements of the bomb group, they were down to 11 aircraft. This was clearly not what anyone wanted, and it was a real problem that the squadrons could not get a full complement of aircraft in the air.
Sir, we are some 20 miles north of our navigation point, Lieutenant Boggs commented as the DFC flew into France with Dieppe on her right. Pilot Warner commented that the Spitz were turning back and headed for home, so keep an eye out for enemy aircraft. The flack over the coastline was light, and Steele was glad for it. He thought how nice it would be to have those beautiful British Spitfires along for the ride, but he had been well prepared that the bomb group would be on their own.
He could not wait until he would get to see them again. Steele's thoughts were broken up by a call through the squadron. Enemy aircraft spotted. Eddie was barking out the warning. The 306th Bomb Group was now tucked in behind the 305th, and they were following them blindly. Warner recalls, blindly, I say. Now the enemy aircraft had been spotted. Warner knew the chase was on, and he knew it was going to be a long chase indeed. He calmly reminded the crew to man battle stations and keep a watchful eye.
Steele was focused on the gauges, speed, engine performance, with that occasional wandering eye on the formation and the horizon. At 21,000 feet, it's cold, somewhere between minus 20 and minus 40 degrees Celsius. It's so cold you should not oil the guns because they will freeze, so cold that if your bare hands touch bare metal, it sticks, so cold that crews suffered from frostbite. Our story is relatively early in the war and very early in the Allied bombing campaign.
These crews are pioneers, and you know what they say about pioneers. Pioneers get the arrows while settlers get the land. This means these airmen were trying to manage layers of clothing, flight suits, electric suits, and oxygen masks, because at 21,000 feet, the elements will kill them faster than flak or bullets. They were learning on the fly, pun intended, because everything they are doing are first. At altitude, Steele can hardly move. He is layered in suits and gear, and his heart is pounding out of his chest.
He is sweating and freezing at the same time. Everything is moving at a fast pace, but Warner is a calming presence, and an experienced pilot helps to calm one's nerves. At 28 years of age, Uncle Bill was an appropriate nickname. Okay, we're getting kind of long, so let's put in an intermission and end part one of episode two. We are in the DFC, flying with Lieutenant Uncle Bill Warner and Second Lieutenant David Steele. The 306th Bomb Group is on a mission to bomb Romilly-Sussein.
The squadron has just crossed over into France, the flak is light, and the first enemy fighters have been spotted. Until next time, just think of the things you can find when you are looking for something else. Gaspar, out.
