What was it like to fly a combat mission as part of a B-24 crew in WW II
by Chet Humeniuk 14 May 1992
"Every afternoon we checked the Squadron bulletin Board to see if our crew was scheduled to fly. If our crew was listed we usually spent a quiet evening. Maybe wrote a letter home. Basically it was a time to do some soul searching and to think of home and family.
The whistle blower came around mighty early in the longer days of summer. 0130 AM being the earliest. We had the choice of getting up then and going to breakfast or staying In the sack a while longer. Most of us opted not to eat breakfast. It gave us a few minutes of "twilight zone". The war sometimes seemed unreal and far away. It didn't seem logical that in about 6 to 8 hours the Germans were going to be doing their best to blow us out of the sky.
I don't know how all the Bomb Group's operated, but in ours the entire crew went to briefing. A curtain hung over our flight path map until briefing started. The big if - what target. When a "biggie" like Viener Neustadt, Austria or Ploesti, Romania came up you could sense the mood change. Less wise cracks, less talking. I remember looking around at the crews and wondering whether they or we would be absent from next briefing.
Next came a stop at the parachute bldg. Early on we kept on gear in our tents until someone discovered that chutes could collect moisture and wouldn't function at high/cold altitudes. Our chutes were our life lines. We treated them like babies. Always made sure the release pins were not bent, etc.
On to the flight line, engine run up, a check of what ever position you had that day. While I was at one time or another in every gun position/turret on the plane I generally flew the left waist position. Sometimes we had an extra camera crew member along. His job was to ready and operate the camera during target strike. We generally did not relish this. It further crowded an already crowded area.
A flare was fired signaling time to start the engines and taxi out. As our turn came up those of us in the rear of plane usually got up against a bulkhead. I felt we all "died a little" on take off. A full fuel and bomb load. Getting off the ground I felt was almost half the danger of the mission. It took awhile to get a few hundred feet of altitude.
After we gained some respectable altitude we began a circular pattern usually near our base and our B-24s began to cue up into formation. Once that was completed we normally headed out over the Adriatic Sea. Over water we gunners loaded and tested fired a few bursts to check out turrets and guns.
Then started the "long haul". It took several hours to climb up to altitude. Most targets we hit around 25 thou mark. Anything less like 22 or 23 thou we felt exposed. Maybe it was psychological, but we wanted all the altitude we could have. Actually the B-24 was only capable of getting up around 26 or 26.5 thou with loads we carried.
Eventually the formations got stretched out in one long line. At times one could see the sun glistening off of planes as far ahead and behind as one could see.
The 1st pilot was on the radio net with other planes in the formation. The rest of us were on intercom. We spent a lot of time just talking. Occasionally we would even sing a few songs to break the monotony. When I look back I am amazed at the length of time we were in the air. While the average time for our over all missions averaged 7 hrs some missions were more like 8 hrs.
On a few missions the Germans had hauled in some anti aircraft guns on rail cars and caught us with some pretty accurate fire about half way to target. Those incidents were quite a shock coming out of the blue so to speak. Our nose gunner got a chunk of shrapnel in his knee on one such incident. He was back with us in a week or so.
We had fighter action from time to time, but toward the end of our tour of duty these attacks became less frequent.
By the time we reached the target area our adrenaline was up. A small cloud of blackish smoke would be visible ahead. This smoke accumulated from rounds fired earlier on previous formations. Final heading for target was made at I. P., Initial Point, I think it stood for. We were then about 5 minutes or so from target. Anti aircraft fire we faced was field artillery turned skyward. The ususal fire was 88 MM rounds fused to explode at our altitude or on contact. Some big targets also had 105 MM guns, the "wham" from those I felt I could feel to the core of my body. The target area was where we took the largest percentage of our losses. A few planes took direct hits - usually there were not any survivors in those cases. Finally came the upward lurch as the bomb load left the bomb bay. Next the formation would make a big left or right turn to get out of target area and we started the long haul back.
Once far enough away from the target to not be receiving anymore rounds there would be a certain amount of chatter on how it went. A few other times when we lost a plane right along side ours over target there was more like a stunned silence.
The trip back was filled with various concerns. How our fuel was doing? Any engines that took damage? Would they keep on running? Occasionally an engine had to be shut off and prop "feathered". When we had a target to the East or Northeast our first goal was to at least make it back to the Yugoslav Mtns. If the situation was such that the plane couldn't be brought all the way back to base these area had friendly underground that would help bring crews out. Fortunately we never faced this fate. Our crew never had to bail out or ditch.
Once back over the Adriatic the let down was fairly swift. It was good to see Italy and home base. Flares were used by planes to indicate they had wounded aboard. Our 1st pilot was the only other crew member we had wounded. He took a piece of shrapnel in his lower leg. A good deal of the time we got back with a number of holes in our planes. In fact one of our "D" model 24's was named "Patches".
Some of the other names I remember also mainly from older "D" models, were Professor D and Flame McGoon. It was always encouraging to come off a target and see the older planes still coming thru. A good deal of the "Ds" had desert camouflage coloring from North Africa campaign. Actually they had a higher cruising speed than the new G and H models. Mainly they had less turrets.
After unloading from plane we were taken to debriefing. When we first arrived we had an oz of whiskey credited to us after each mission. After we had accumulated enough for a bottle each we threw a big party. Later we got the ounce right after debriefing. One time one of the other crew members didn't want his and I had a double. Going back to our tent I had the feeling I was walking about 2 feet off the ground. It was probably too big a belt after being on oxygen for hours, little to eat, etc.
Our tent, one of 3, sat in a small vineyard. It was very much like "the swamp" in Mash. It was home to six of us enlisted men from our crew. The Officers had barrack like qtrs. Many a bull session was had over the months. We eventually got closer to the other crew members than even our own families.
Finally came the day when I had my missions in and I got to stand down while our crew made one last mission to finish their req'd missions. A day of mixed emotions for me.
My last mission with crew had been on 15 July 1944. Our target that day was Ploesti, Roumania. It was one of the 5 missions our crew flew over Ploesti.
My mission record is dated 29 July, 1944. We were flown to Naples later to wait out a troop ship convoy back to the States. Our crew began to split up at the "Repel Depot" as it was called. Only one of our crew members was assigned to the same tent as I was. We heard daily rumors about the convoy due in "that day". It did finally arrive. About 12 days later we saw the Statue of Liberty as we pulled in to New York Harbor.
In looking back I felt we had a better than average combat crew. We had the only Eskimo flight crew member we knew of. He was our Flight Engineer. I drew 2nd Flight Engineer/Gunner. Our ground crews were some of the best in the world. The crew chiefs and other personnel worked their hearts out to make our planes combat ready.
We didn't win the war because we were that much better than the Germans. Mainly it was a war of attrition. USA and Allies just wore down the opposition.
We weren't all that brave either. Coming off of one of our missions to Ploesti one of our 24's slid back along side and below us after taking a mortal hit. A few minutes later our navigator said, "If I could have surrendered to the Germans back there they would have had another POW".
Did being in combat make me a better person? I don't know. Maybe a little more humble.
For better or worse we toughed it out and lucked out. The Good Lord was with us."
C.T. Humeniuk/Flight Eng./Gunner 515 Sqdn, 376th Bombardment Group H AAF
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