During a mission to bomb Romilly, Sussane, the crew of the B-17 bomber DFC faced various challenges. Inexperienced gunners were overusing oxygen, risking their own lives and the crew's safety. The Luftwaffe attacked the squadron, targeting weak formations and straggling bombers. The crew witnessed planes being shot down and experienced intense attacks. Despite the heavy cloud cover, the Luftwaffe persisted. The crew of the DFC faced malfunctions in their own aircraft, including non-functioning guns and a wounded crew member. The mission ended with multiple B-17s being hit and casualties.
Welcome back. When we last left off, we were flying in a B-17 bomber named DFC with Lieutenant Uncle Bill Warner and Second Lieutenant David Steele. The 306th Bomb Group is on a mission to bomb Romilly, Sussane. The squadron has just crossed over into France. Flak is light and the first enemy fighters have been spotted. Episode 2, the Meat Hound series, the first mission, part 2. Grands Villers. Ah, the quaint little village of Grands Villers, France. Just over 30 nautical miles to the English Channel.
And just to mention, a 2023 Trip Advisor suggested stop. Just ahead she be, but on December 12th, 1942, despite her quaintness, she would witness death, destruction, and silk as B-17s and their crews started falling out of the sky. In addition to German fighters, there were other issues that started to surface within the aircraft that had nothing to do with Flak or the fighters. On board the Sweet Pea, piloted by Captain Ryan, which is the lone representative to make it into formation from the 367th squadron today, they started to have issues with oxygen system.
The new gunners were overusing the oxygen and were about to pass out. None of these boys had come in with steel, Hamilton, or bogs, but they were still inexperienced and it was a problem. The Bomb Group surgeon was all too familiar with this problem and Captain Ryan knew it endangered the whole crew and he was adamant that someone had better get these new gunners to oxygen school and fast, that is if they survived. This is also supported by Shuler, the 306th Bomb Group surgeon, who said in a 1983 speech that oxygen was a problem and crew members would pass out because of careless use of oxygen, then they were a danger to others as other crew members were trying to revive them.
As the aircraft crews continued to deal with the elements of high-altitude flying, the Luftwaffe continued their pursuit looking for targets of opportunity. The Luftwaffe strategy today, like a lot of days, was to fly parallel to the Bomb Group looking for a weak or broken formation and then attack straggling bombers. If there were no targets of opportunity, then they would create one by making feint attacks on the flank of the squadron while pairs of planes would attack the nose of the bomber trying to kill the pilots or at least wound the aircraft and knock it out of formation.
The German Luftwaffe had waited for the Spitfire escort to turn back for home and then they pounced. No one was really surprised since the Luftwaffe's contrails at 21,000 feet gave them away. The 306th and Steele from his co-pilot seat could only watch as the group in front of them, the 305th, started to take the punishment. Steele watched distracted from the gauges as one of the B-17s started to drift out of formation and not the drift like it was an evasive maneuver but the drift where he knew they had been killed.
Then the plane slowly nosed down into a dive. Count shoots if you see any, Steele, Warner said. The 306th air crews watched as these early Luftwaffe attacks were being made by white-nosed and white-winged Focke-Wulfs. The Luftwaffe was an artistic bunch and it helped both sides to identify and recognize aircraft. This was a pack of six white-nosed, white-winged Focke-Wulfs working in pairs attacking the nose of B-17s. The Eager Beaver of the 368th was piloted by Lieutenant Reber and Second Lieutenant Lally.
They were able to count six shoots. The crew of the Eager Beaver had a great view of the bomb group in front of them and of the German fighter planes that had started to dodge in and out on attacks. Steele could see it too. This was the first time he witnessed a plane shoot down another and it did not feel good to him, but he kept telling himself, focus on flying, do your job. He also knew this was part of war and how he himself was replacing crew members who had been shot down or who had had a mental breakdown, but that was really not talked about and certainly not given the medical attention that it needed and that was not the doctor's fault.
Once again, Steele was distracted while watching a second B-17 and the group ahead of him drift out of formation and plunge towards the earth. This time, no shoots were counted and ten souls were lost. For the love of God, what is going on, he thought to himself. The 305th has taken a beating. The chatter on the intercom was helpful, but distracting all at the same time. Uncle Bill continued to provide counsel and the crew was reporting back on what they were seeing.
The DFC was flying well and in good position with no anomalies to report. Then Warner pointed it out, flak ahead. Steele could see the black smoke bursting ahead. It looked heavy and the good news was it was well under the aircraft. Lieutenant Boggs then called out a navigational change while Uncle Bill simply followed the leader as a group ahead of them headed for Romilly, Sussane. Southeast of Paris, Romilly, Sussane. Major Lanford continued to lead the 306.
They were flying at 150 miles an hour and continued to follow the 305th blindly, remember? There was a good chance and reason to believe that the German Luftwaffe knew the bombing run today was targeting the Luftwaffe repair facility at Romilly, Sussane. The Germans had a strong spy network in England and usually had good insight into the day-to-day happenings. This made Lieutenants Reber and Lally quite hot. They were quick to suggest that security and thoroughly needed to be improved.
Of course, it's also safe to presume the Luftwaffe was taking an attack on their repair facility personally. The Luftwaffe repair facility would survive the day, not because of a stellar defense, but because of weather. The cloud cover is thick and heavy. A 1010 day, the Air Corps would call it. Even with the heavy cloud cover, the Luftwaffe were in a swarm. Not only were they insulted that their repair facility was targeted, we must remember, and maybe they were just plain irritated because their bread was horrible and barely fit to eat.
As the clock turned past 1200 hours military time, the group turned west after an anti-climatic aborted bomb run and started making their way towards the last resort, the marshalling yards at Rhone. They would pass south of Paris and abort their secondary target at Villa Kublay, which was also under heavy 1010 cloud cover. Life is filled with humorous moments, even in the most difficult of situations. And it was about this time that one of those scenarios occurred.
The radio operator, an eager beaver, Tech Sergeant Orman, tells the crew that someone wants to bomb Lille. Lille, a city north, nearly on the Belgium border, and in a completely different direction than where the group is headed. Tech Sergeant Orman gets back on the intercom and informs Lieutenant Reber, no one knows where Lille is, so we are headed for Rhone. Someone headed in for Lille, and to imagine a serious conversation about taking the bomb group completely out of its flight plan and bomb another target is really quite humorous and a wild idea.
My thought is, someone headed in for Lille and really had a grudge to settle, and it was probably due to the fact that the bomb group's first mission was October 9th, 1942, and the mission was to Lille, and it was that mission that they lost their first aircraft and crew. Eager beaver's co-pilot, Second Lieutenant Lally, chimed in, for God's sake, they're pushing this formation and we've been at 40 inches and 2,300 RPMs the whole time. If we keep this up, Marlin, we're going to lose an engine and someone wants to go to Lille? The bomb group stayed on its blistering pace.
The Lille distraction was short-lived as the Luftwaffe continued its blistering attacks. The early part of the day was really quite easy compared to what started to occur. Warner and Steele and DFC were witnesses, as was the rest of the squadron, to the beating that the 305th Bomb Group was taking. In short order, three more B-17s out of the 305th were hit, and the crews of the 306th could only wonder when their time would come. It looks like plane number 42-295-24, which is still in Seattle, was going to be needed sooner than later, but she was still a long ways away.
The 306th time was up. Captain Reagan's crew and the Sons of Fury witnessed the carnage as one of the B-17s had its tail assembly blown off and then went sharply into a dive, one parachute. A second B-17 blew up and they could see two of the crewmen thrown from the plane, no shoots. The third B-17 with its engine on fire headed for the clouds. The Sons of Fury were in the middle of the fight and being the first element of the lead squadron, they had a front row seat.
The Luftwaffe continued working in pairs and they started making attacks from 11 to one o'clock level and low. The conditions at 21,000 feet are harsh, so when 20 millimeter shells start exploding outside the plane, it got Sergeant Mount and Spiro's attention. Let me tell you what really gets your attention. That's when you start getting hit by those shell fragments and that's exactly what happened to Sergeant Spiro. He was hit in the small of the back by a 20 millimeter shell fragment.
It was a slight wound, but it was hard to tell with all the layers of clothing and flight gear that he had on, but he could feel the warm sticky blood running down his back. Captain Reagan's plane was in peril. Sergeant Spiro was wounded, Sergeant Mount's left waist gun was not working, and Sergeant Pugh was staring at an unexploded 20 millimeter shell in his ball turret. Their defense was further hampered by Sergeant Wade's top turret guns not working.
The action started to intensify and the frequency of attacks increased. Steel tightened up and held on a little bit tighter as tail gunner Counts and Top Gunner Wilson called out three Focke-Wulfs at six o'clock level and seven o'clock diving. As fast as the DFC was threatened, the attack was over, but then resumed with twice the numbers. This time six Focke-Wulfs made a run at the DFC and the squadron. Steel could see the tracers fly by the aircraft and the small puffs of smoke at the 20 millimeter high explosive rounds erupted around the squadron.
Warner kept the plane in formation and Steel kept an eye on the engines, especially after the attacks. The intercom was abuzz as the gunners, which was really everyone except the pilots, were calling out targets as the ringing of machine guns spread through the DFC. Captain Brady and his crew and the unbearable have spotted five parachutes. Five parachutes. Does anyone know where they came from? Captain Ryan's crew is reporting a ship going down in the group behind the 306th.
Which group is this? 303rd, we believe. Does anyone know? The confusion and fog of war persists. The unbearable had no time to worry about the five parachutes for the next 15 minutes proved to be quite harrowing and unforeseen circumstances made it worse. You know, those things that cost one their life. They were under attack primarily by Messerschmitt 109s, the backbone of the German Luftwaffe. Captain Brady was calling for information over the intercom as he tried to keep unbearable in position.
The comms are awfully silent. Damn, they're out. The comms are out. Staff Sergeant Bean reports the radio is also out and then gets back to his gun. Here they come again, but the whole plane cannot be warned. The unbearable crew in full flight suits, heated suits and oxygen masks, flak jackets and helmets are using hand signals where they can to provide warning and direction of attacks. It's a helpless feeling to have, especially when machine guns and cannons have no mercy.
Maybe it was a relief to have the attacks come in on the nose because that way you could see it. Three more Messerschmitts resume their attack and right waist gunner John Villarney gets a hit on one and the Messerschmitt 109 goes down in a ball of flames as the crew watched it spin through the clouds. No parachute. These Falkers were attacking three at a time. I had to throw that one in for you, Sir Douglas Bader.
Earlier I mentioned the humor of war and now it's time for some irony. There is a lot of irony in war and I personally enjoy it. Today's battle is no exception, as a piece of irony was documented by the unbearable's crew. Thank you, Sirs, for doing so. As a Focke-Wulf barreled down attacking the unbearable from six o'clock high, it was suddenly hit by flak, sent into a violent spin and headed for the clouds. Friendly fire had just taken out one of their own.
No parachute. One soul lost. Lieutenant Otto Buddenbaum in 124502 was flying a no-name beauty in the number two position next to Captain Lanford. He was in tight formation and the crew was watching for enemy aircraft and for other bombers taking evasive action. Then suddenly two Focke-Wulfs came darting out of the sun at 21,000 feet and 11 o'clock low. They had a clear disregard for their own lives and flew right through the formation, 20 millimeter cannons ablaze.
As quickly as they appeared, they were through the formation with no major damage to report. After these Focke-Wulfs had made their attack, they flew out of gun range, watching, waiting, stalking their prey, coordinating with cohorts and acting as decoys while others took their turn. On board the Wahoo, which is one of my favorite names, and I wonder if the Hawaiians call this plane, oh no, piloted by Lieutenant Riordan and Lieutenant Maliszewski, who on this day had been loaned to the 423rd squadron.
It was a pretty routine mission so far. They were flying number three position in the last element when suddenly they were jumped by multiple enemy aircraft just south of Paris. The first attack came from six o'clock right on the tail. Staff Sergeant Langley, a bluegrass tail gunner, exchanged fire with the Luftwaffe plane. German 20 millimeter shells came ripping through the Wahoo and pieces of her started to shed while it also wounded Langley with shell fragments. Staff Sergeant Langley was able to stay composed and fired a burst of twin 50 caliber rounds into the Focke-Wulf 190, catching the fighter's nose on fire, sending it into a spin as it passed under the Wahoo.
The crew assessed the damage and other than a few extra holes and missing aluminum, they did not see anything too serious. The good news is they are still in formation and under full power. Here they come again, called Holloway from his top turret gun position and once again 20 millimeter shells came tearing through the Wahoo as she took further punishment. Radio operator Schultz is calling for help as 20 millimeter shell fragments have hit him in the face, neck and stomach.
But he's not calling for himself but for tail gunner Langley who was seriously wounded by the Focke-Wulf that he just shot down. Can anyone get to Langley? Is everyone else okay? Holloway, what is the status? I'm a little busy sir as his 20-50 calibers rattled away. Langley laid there wounded in the arm, leg and head. His arm is broken. Sir, the tail gun is completely shot out and useless. The Wahoo, beaten up, continues to fly. Was the 423rd squadron going to lose another aircraft today? The Wahoo was still flying but had taken some significant damage and the drag was starting to slow her down.
You did not want to be out of formation and the pilots knew it. Her crew was fully engaged. Everyone but the pilots were on a gun, if there was one, and another eye was on Langley, seriously injured but holding on. Lieutenants Spellman and Ritter in the nose, the navigator and the bombardier, spot a Focke-Wulf 190. What a nice color, I doubt anyone really thought. A robin's blue belly with a yellow top came in for an attack from 10 o'clock low and as the 20 millimeter tracers fly by the Wahoo, Holloway puts a burst into the robin's egg blue belly and it flames out of sight.
The attacks on the Wahoo are behind Warner and Steele. Tail gunner counts can see the attacks and calls out that Lieutenant Rewarden has been hit and parts of the Wahoo are falling off and it looks like they have significant damage. Then three yellow-nosed Focke-Wulfs attack the DFC from nine o'clock and Steele watches as they buzz past with nothing but a light and smoke show. Second Lieutenant Steele is thinking that things are getting serious and wonders if they're going to survive the day.
Meanwhile the Wahoo has lost one of her top guns and one of her side guns, both having been shot out, and the crew wonders if they're going to survive the day. Pilot Rewarden asks for an assessment of Langley and wants to know if they're going to have to throw them out. It might sound harsh but if you have a seriously wounded crewman that will not make the trip home, you needed to consider throwing them out of the plane, with a parachute of course, so the Germans can provide them medical care.
Staff Sergeant Langley was not going anywhere. You're not throwing me out, just get us home. I suppose that those that got thrown out were unable to resist. Southwest of the target, Romilly Sussane, I told you that the chase was exhausting and just think at this point of the war you needed 25 missions to go home. You've been up since 3 a.m. flying under stressful conditions, you've not eaten or been to the bathroom, you're carrying 5,000 pounds of bombs, and you have nine other crew members who are counting on you to do your job.
Now get the oxygen mixtures right. The bomb group was now south-southwest of Paris and they had pushed past their secondary target. It is now past 1300 hours. They're still carrying their bomb loads and hoping that there's enough clear weather to attack the marshalling yards at Rhone. Major Lanford remained in the lead plane formation when the Luftwaffe pilots once again tried to break up the bomb group with a frontal attack from one o'clock position. The colorful Focke-Wulf with her deadly cannons came in fast, but she stayed level long enough for Top Gunner and Engineer Kessler, yes just like my bowling whiskey from Wisconsin, to get a bead on her and Kessler was able to get a burst in her at 200 yards.
The bomb group watched as the Focke-Wulf rolled over and dove for the ground, no parachute spotted. Over the next hour there was a continuous and heated air battle as the bomb group moved into Rhone preparing to make a bob run then make a mad dash for the channel. The eager beaver was once again under attack, this time from a German pilot who came in low from four o'clock, so Staff Sergeant Clark in the ball turret was returning fire with her when one of the 20 millimeter shells hit the right wing between the number three and number four engines, but the eager beaver was still flying and all of the excitement Staff Sergeant Clark did not notice, but he would later see the bullet hole next to his ball turret.
The hole in the wing was one thing, but now pilots Reber and Lally were having issues with their oxygen regulator, in fact it was not operable, so they needed to find a backup fast. Captain Brady's ship the Unbearable was in good form this day and over the next 30 minutes the Luftwaffe would pay a heavy price for attacking her. The repetitive attacks on the Unbearable and the other bombers of the group give us a sense of what it was like that Saturday afternoon.
Unbearable's tail gunner McMahon, no relations, shot down a Focke-Wulf, but it was a short-lived victory because the Unbearable was quickly attacked again and another Focke-Wulf was downed, this time by the ball turret gunner Staff Sergeant Stein, say that three times fast. The heavily armored Focke-Wulf burst into intense flames from the engine to the wing and then came the hat trick. Private Sansky, yes private, dispensed of a Messerschmitt 109 at 900 yards, yes that's right, 900 yards from his left waist gun position, most likely one of those yellow-nosed cream-brown bodies that Lieutenant Reber was talking about, either way sounds like we need more privates manning guns.
The Unbearable had a hat trick of German fighters downed. Captain Mack McKay, flying the first plane of the 423rd squadron, knew that his crew was up to the challenge. As I've mentioned, the Luftwaffe pilots were astute and knew that attacking from the front and trying to kill the B-17 pilots was the most effective tactic in bringing down a bomber, but a frontal attack is not always practical and sometimes targets of opportunity present themselves, so pilots may decide that a different angle or approach fits the current situation.
We must also remember that these young men who are risk-takers never see themselves as the ones being killed. The no-name B-17, flown by Captain Mack McKay, came under fierce and repetitive attacks. A Focke-Wulf wandered in a little too close, attacking from three o'clock high. The sun was reflecting off the left side of the Focke-Wulf displaying her true colors when Sergeant Bevin, the right waist gunner, unloaded a burst of 50 caliber rounds at 600 yards that hit the Focke-Wulf in the most accurate of strikes.
The Focke-Wulf burst into flames that quickly engulfed the plane and it dove to the earth, no parachute. Captain McKay's crew was ecstatic as it had been a long day of heavy fighting, so it was good to get one of the bad guys. Steele and the DFC could see the Messerschmitts just sitting out there, lurking and waiting. Here they come. Two Messerschmitts ramped up their speed and came in at 11 o'clock low on Captain Mack McKay's ship.
Navigator Lieutenant Pollack started firing. So who was navigating the plane? And one of the Messerschmitts flew right into the tracers at 600 yards. Pollack continued firing at the second Messerschmitt while the plane he had just hit had its prop stopped spinning. It then dramatically slowed, nosed over, caught on fire, no parachute. It is safe to say the bullets killed the pilot. Captain Mack McKay's no-name B-17 now had two kills to her credit and enemy planes continued the pursuit.
Minutes later another attack started from 10 o'clock high. This time three Focke-Wulfs dive on the lead plane of the 423rd, desperate to break up the formation before it gets to Roan. The left side of the plane erupts in the gunfire as tracers fly through the formation and hit the ship, but nothing of consequence as puffs of 20 millimeter explode and burst outside the aircraft. Lieutenant Pollack, from his navigator position, was trying to keep the Focke-Wulfs at bay, knowing that they were after the front of the aircraft, right where he was standing.
This time the left waist gunner Ray Hinn was able to hit one of the fighters at 500 yards. He shook it. He stayed on it, hitting her again and finished it off at 200 yards, no parachute. And then the no-name ship had her hat trick for the day. The brave Luftwaffe pilots were paying the ultimate sacrifice. I wonder if there is someone in Germany trying to research their uncle who flew in the Luftwaffe so they can relive his missions and try to get to know the men he flew with and were there any of his friends lost on this day.
Roan. The hunters continued to chase their prey, taking opportunities to attack when they thought it was best. But unlike the 305th, the 306th group had not yet lost a plane as they made their way into the Roan Air District and prepared for the bomb run. Uncle Bill Warner was preparing for the bomb run and Second Lieutenant Steele had the engines humming while he continued to have one eye on the Messerschmitts that were on each side of the aircraft just out of machine gun range.
The Messerschmitts continued to be overt and were most likely waiting for the group to make their bomb run while they were also providing feign attacks and distractions when a Focke-Wulf attacked the DFC and the squadron from one o'clock low. It came right up under DFC's right wing and peeled off at a point-blank range of 200 feet. This Focke-Wulf had come in on Steele's side. He got close enough for Steele to see the color of his jacket as he flew by.
Fate is a funny thing. Once again, for whatever reason, the DFC did not sustain any significant damage. However, the Wahoo and its crew, they were not so lucky. DFC's tail gunner Counts and top turret gunner Wilson were given the pilots updates on the Wahoo as a Messerschmitt 109 continued repeated attacks on her. Lieutenant Malazuzzi, the co-pilot, had to feather one of the engines as it was now shot, literally, but not on fire. Counts continued, he's struggling, sir, and starting to fall back.
In case you were wondering, feathering is where the pilot adjusts the propeller blade so that it cuts through the wind and does not increase drag on the plane to better help the other engines and to maintain a higher airspeed. Two more Focke-Wulfs make diving attacks on Warner and Steele and the crew of the DFC. Staff Sergeant Wilson from his top turret gun position and the left side of the aircraft fight off the attack as 20 millimeter shells hit the DFC, damaging the left stabilizer and knocking off the antenna.
This time, Steele could hear the shells as they tore into the DFC, but he stayed focused on the engines and the manifold pressure to make sure that none of the engines took any damage. Lieutenant Warner had been in the scraps like this before, and he knew so far they were lucky. As distracting and nerve-wracking the Luftwaffe attacks were to Steele, he reminded himself they needed to do his job so he could be there for the others.
It was time for the bomb run. All this way, a day's worth of flying. Can we get to the target? Captain Landford was still in the lead for the bomb group. The cloud cover was intense, nearly as bad as it was or the same as the primary. What were they going to do? Landford made the decision. Open the bomb bay doors. The bomb bay doors were open. Captain Landford switched the aircraft, named Skipper, to autopilot and Lieutenant Kozakowski, the bombardier, took control.
Bombs away, and the Skipper dropped 10 500-pound general-purpose bombs on the marshalling yards at Rhone. Well, so they say, because it was really pretty cloudy, and we don't know for sure. The Skipper was followed by Sweet Pea, Yankee Raider, Captain McKay, and the Wahoo. Yes, the Wahoo, who each dropped their bombs. A total of 15,000 pounds of general-purpose bombs and 7,000 pounds of incendiary bombs fell on or near the target. On the DFC, Lieutenant Warner had turned the controls over to Lieutenant May, and he was guiding the ship in for their bomb run.
There were no evasive maneuvers, just level flying. Lieutenant May did not have a good view, and he thought he saw several large explosions observed in or very close to the target, but haze prevented accurate observations, and this was only visible through the drift meter. Therefore, Lieutenant May decided to hold the bombs. Then, just like the DFC, the remaining four aircraft of the bomb group refused to drop their bombs, because cloud cover obstructed viewing their target, and they did not feel comfortable with the attack.
The Wahoo, who did drop her bombs, needed to drop them, as she was down in engine and starting to drift out of formation, so the weight loss was necessary. Captain Lanford then made the decision to make a second run on the target, so that the remaining planes could deliver their bomb loads, but it was to no avail, and the target was simply not visible. The second run of the target was highly irritating to the crew of the eager beaver, and they let their captain know by lighting up the intercom system with complaints.
With good reason, Reber thought. We are giving the Germans too many chances, and if he makes it back home, he's going to be more than happy to share his feedback. With that, let's make the run for the channel, and then head home. It's now after 1400 hours, and it's time for the bomb group to start heading for Beachy Head, and then Thurley, the French coast, and the English Channel. On the way to the coastline, the flak was heavy as it crashed below the unbearable, and the rest of the 423rd squadron.
All in all, the flak was ineffective against the 306th bomb group today. A few holes here and there, but nothing serious, which was not normal. As the bomb group approached, and then crossed into the English Channel, the Spitfire escorts showed up like a scene out of a movie, and they were already engaged with a formidable Luftwaffe force, who'd been waiting there for the bombers and the Spitfires. Lieutenant Warner ordered Lieutenant May to get the bombs dropped into the English Channel as soon as possible, and with that, the bomb bay doors were opened, open bomb bay doors confirmed, and then 14 250-pound incendiary bombs were harmlessly jettisoned into the English Channel, waiting for a future French fisherman to discover them, but I suppose that is a story for another day.
Oh, the life raft did try to escape, but it stayed in the aircraft, unlike Captain McKay's, which was lost. There were a swarm of enemy fighters waiting for the bombers in the English Channel, and with the arrival of the British Spitfire escort, a dogfight ensued, which lasted halfway across the English Channel. Captain Ryan and the Sweet Pea, which were again the lone representative of the 367th today, had its intercom system filled with calls from every gunner on the ship to watch out, mainly Focke-Wulfs, but a few Messerschmitts also.
The Sweet Pea was able to knock down an enemy fighter, but her victory was short-lived as 20 millimeter shells came shredding through the ship. Another enemy burst shattered the nose and knocked out the horizontal stabilizer. Lieutenant Olds, the bombardier, was hit with 20 millimeter shell fragments as the nose of the Sweet Pea was decimated. Lieutenant Olds was down with 20 millimeter fragments in his head, shoulder, leg, and foot. Was the Sweet Pea going to be the first casualty of the day this close to home? Sergeant Beaudoin, the Sweet Pea's top turret gunner, watched as the Spitfire brought down one of the attacking enemy aircraft, and just like that, the Sweet Pea had been shot up, but she was out of trouble.
Captain Ryan and her crew just had to get her home. A 20 millimeter shell came crashing through the right wing of the Yankee Raider. This was Lieutenant Smith's plane, as she was tucked in the second element of the 368th. The Yankee Raider shuddered, but the wing stayed intact, and the crew watched as a Focke-Wulf went down in flames at the hands of a British Spitfire. Maybe, probably, this was the same one that the Sweet Pea had just witnessed.
Another enemy aircraft came diving in on Eager Beaver's nose, a Messerschmitt 109. The two aircraft exchanged fire, and the Eager Beaver's navigator, Lieutenant Bergen, was returning fire when he was struck by one of the eight millimeter rounds and wounded. The bullet hit him at an angle and tore him across the abdomen from side to side. The crew was able to get Lieutenant Bergen stable for the final push to Thurley, and they would prepare a red flare till the ground personnel know they had a wounded airman on board the plane.
Sometimes fate shines on you, and again, it seems the DFC was the recipient. Lieutenant Warner has the DFC in formation, and she's barreling for home. All of the crew have manned guns, save Steele, who was manning the engines. Suddenly, a British Spitfire came buzzing by the DFC at a blistering pace, like something was chasing him. Well, he was being chased, and it was a Messerschmitt 109. Sergeant Counts, from his tail gun position, was able to get a bead on the Messerschmitt as it flew by, and he unloaded a burst from his twin .50 caliber machine guns and sent the Messerschmitt into the English Channel, no parachute.
Sergeant Counts would say it was his excellent reaction time. His crew members would say even a blind squirrel can find a nut. So, where is Lieutenant Rewarden in the Wahoo? Well, she's lagging behind. Having one engine and three guns shot out of her, the Wahoo was under constant attack ever since she lost one of her engines. The Luftwaffe pilots were desperately trying to finish her off, and thought they had succeeded when the number four engine was hit and knocked out.
Once again, Lieutenant Maliszewski feathered the engine to reduce the drag, but having two engines out on the same side seemed like a death knell. It looked as if Lieutenant Rewarden was going to have to ditch in the English Channel, and he wondered if the life raft had stayed in the plane when they opened their bomb bay doors. A squadron of British Spitfires noticed the crippled ship, and came to her rescue, swooping down and driving away the snarling wolves who were looking for a kill, but reluctantly they were forced to turn back and head to France.
The Spitfire squadron then covered the Wahoo on all sides, while Lieutenant Maliszewski backed off the engines, hoping to get past the Channel and limp her into Thurley. He does. The 306th Bomb Group makes it into Thurley, and the landing priority is set by those with wounded personnel first. Wahoo would be given priority once she arrived, but she continued to lag behind the group, only having two engines. As the Bomb Group came into sight of the field, the ground crews started counting, as they always did.
One, two, ten, ten, there she is, eleven, all accounted for. The B-17s with wounded crew members dropped their flares, signaling for help, and the ground crews, ambulances, and medical personnel raced to the planes. The ground crews were prepared to put out any fires or assist with any aircraft that had a hard landing. On this day, there were none. The landings on this day were uneventful. Warner, Steele, and the DFC landed with no issues, even with a damaged stabilizer.
They taxied and parked. They started their checklist process and updated the event log. Warner congratulated Steele and May, and the crew shook hands and patted backs on a job well done. After the logs and a walkthrough were complete, the crews were ordered to the debriefing rooms, where at 1645 hours they would describe their mission, their route, their actions, their bomb run, and the enemy to one of the S-2 officers. It was a good day, not because of a successful bomb run, but because eleven aircraft went out and eleven aircraft came back.
They all came home after a cook's tour of France, which is a rapid or cursory survey or review. It was a good experience for Steele and Boggs, a real mission, a long day with lots of action. They were lucky it could have been much, much worse, but having an experienced pilot and captain like Uncle Bill helped. Closing. It is still mid-December 1942. In fact, it is still December 12th, and we are in Thurley, England, with a 423rd Heavy Bomb Squadron and the 306th Bombardment Group.
Second Lieutenant Steele and Second Lieutenant Orman Hamilton have arrived on the scene as replacements, welcome replacements, and Second Lieutenant Steele has just completed his first mission, which probably means the drinks are on him. Our friend, plane number 4229524, is still in Seattle, Washington, where she is being prepared for her long and exotic trip to England. Even though the 306th Bomb Group did not lose any aircraft today, they do have some in need of repairs, so our friend in Seattle will be a welcome replacement when she arrives.
This concludes Part 2, Episode 2, The Mission. Stay tuned as the next mission is on the runway, but I found a great story in my research, and so I am at a fork in the road, trying to decide which one to do next. Until next time, just think of the things you can find when you are looking for something else. Gaspar, out.
