In their own words...

[bobbysocks]

B17 stuff

Account of Maneuvers: B-17 (42-39957) Halberstadt, Germany on 11 JANUARY
1944.

1st Lt. JOHN W. RAEDEKE US Army Air Corp sends.....

Took off at 0745 o'clock with a load of 2300 gallons of gasoline, 6000
pounds of bombs, full load of ammunition, and the usual weight of men and
equipment. Everything on plane was in perfect working order. Joined the
group formation at 1010 and flew into target without incident but was forced
to use 2400 R.P.M. and 40" HG at times. Dropped our bombs at 11:52 o'clock,
everything still in good shape.

At 1200 o'clock we were hit by fighters which stayed with us for one hour
and fifty minutes. They attacked us from 5-7 o'clock position at first and
gradually as more enemy fighters joined they attacked us from 3-9 o'clock
positions. We were flying "Tail End Charlie", #7 position. The fighters
created much excitement among the squadron, resulting in more power being
applied to the engines. We were forced to use 2500 R.P.M. and 40"-46" almost
continuously.

About 1245 o'clock more enemy fighters joined the attack and finally we
were
being attacked from all positions on the clock, high and low. The plane was
vibrating and pitching unbelievably as a result of all guns firing, fighting
prop-wash, and evading collision with our own as well as enemy planes. Enemy
fighters would come through our formation from 1200 o'clock position, level
in groups of 20-40 at one time all shooting. The sky in front. of us was a
solid mass of exploding 20 M.M. shells, flak, rockets, burning aircraft, and
more enemy fighters. B-17's were going down in flames every 15 minutes and
enemy fighters seemed to explode or go down in smoke like flies dropping out
of the sky.

The "Luftwaffe" attacked us in ME 109's, ME 210's, FW 190's, JU 88's, and
some we couldn't identify. The enemy fighters made suicidal attacks at us
continuously, coming into about fifty feet before turning away. It seemed
that the greater part of the attack was aimed at our ship, perhaps for the
following reason. Our ship was the only one in the group that was not firing
tracer bullets and they apparently thought we had no guns or were out of
ammunition.

The heaviest assault and the one that damaged us happened as follows. At
approximately 1330 o'clock we were attacked by another group of enemy
fighters numbering about forty which came at us again from 1200 o'clock
position, level in formation pattern. Again, we saw that solid wall of
exploding shells and fighters. This time we were flying #3 position in the
second element of the lead squadron. As they came in the top turret gunner
of our ship nailed a FW 190 which burst into flames, nosed up and to its
left, thus colliding with the B-17 flying #2 position of the second element
on our right. Immediately upon colliding this B-17 burst into flames,
started into a loop but fell off on its left wing and across our tail. We
were really hit and we had "Had It". At the time we were thus stricken we
were using a full power setting of 2500 R.P.M. and 40"-46" Hg. Our I.A.S.
was approximately 165 M.P.H. and our altitude was 19,000 feet.

Immediately upon being hit by the falling B-17 we were nosed up and went
into a loop. Confusion, no less, and embarrassment. Pilot called crew at
once and ordered them to prepare to bail out. Response was instantaneous and
miraculously proficient. Not one crew member grew frantic or lost his head,
so to speak. All stood ready at their stations to abandon the ship. The
action of the Pilot regarding the handling of the ship was as follows. As
quickly as we were hit we engaged the A.F.C.E. which was set up for level
flying. Full power was applied with throttle and both Pilot and Co-Pilot
began the struggle with the manual controls.

It was noted at once that the rudder control was out because the rudder
pedals could not be moved. In only a fraction of a second the ship had
completed a beautiful loop and was now merrily spinning toward the ground,
with five enemy fighters following on the tail. Although the spin seemed
flat and rather slow it was vicious and we were losing altitude fast. As
soon as we had completed the loop and had fallen into a spin the Pilot,
having full confidence in a prayer, recalled the crew members and ordered
them to stand by for a little while longer.

"Guts" discipline, and confidence in their Pilot was certainly displayed by
the crew by the fact that they stayed with the ship. To return to the spin
and its final recovery. When the ship fell into a spin the Pilot after
determining its direction applied full inside throttle, retarded the other
two, used only aileron A.F.C.E. control, and applied it in full opposite
position, rolled elevator trim-tab fully forward, and in addition both
pilots applied full forward position on control column, plus full opposite
aileron. After making at least two or three complete 360-degree turns, the
ship finally swept into a clean dive at an angle of approximately 45 degrees
from level.

The I.A.S. at this time was approximately 280 M.P.H. The altitude was
approximately 12,000 feet. Power setting was reduced to about 2/3. At this
point it was noted that one enemy fighter was still following on our tail,
therefore seeing a solid undercast below we nosed the ship down and applied
additional power. We were heading for cloud cover at an angle of
approximately 75 degrees to 80 degrees from the level at a speed of about
400 M.P.H. indicated. All this while the aileron was clutched into A.F.C.E.
and was holding wings level. The elevators were controlled entirely by the
trim tab.

At 6000 feet we began easing back the elevator trim tab and slowly started
to level out. Finally leveled off in the clouds at 4000 feet, trimmed the
ship, and engaged elevator clutch of A.F.C.E. Disengaged this every few
seconds to re-trim ship, kept it perfectly level and flying smoothly. The
I.A.S. after leveling off in the clouds was still around 340 M.P.H. but was
dropping off quite rapidly until it reached 200 M.P.H. Maintained an I.A.S.
of 190-200 M.P.H. from then on with a power setting of 2100 R.P.M. and 31"
Hg.

Checked all engine instruments immediately after leveling off and found
everything functioning normally, except the Pilot's directional gyro which
apparently had tumbled. Flew in the cloud cover for about ten (10) minutes
then came out above to check for more enemy fighters. Saw one fighter after
several minutes at five (5) O'clock position high so we ducked back into the
clouds for about ten minutes longer. Came out again and found everything
clear.

Rode the top of the clouds all the way back across the North Sea. The point
where we first entered the cloud cover was about thirty (30) minutes flying
time (at our speed) from the enemy sea coast. An interesting point which
occurred was that we came out of our spin and dive on a heading of 270
degrees which fortunately was our heading home. Immediately after we had
leveled off in the clouds each crew member reported into the Co-Pilot that
he was back at his station and manning his guns. No particular excitement or
scare was apparent for the crew members started a merry chatter over the
interphone.

During the violent maneuvers of the loop the left waist gunner, S/Sgt.
Warren Carson, was thrown about in the waist of the ship resulting in a
fractured leg. However, he did remain at his guns until the chances of more
enemy attacks was nil. After we were well out over the North Sea the injured
waist gunner was moved to the radio room where he was treated and made
comfortable by the Bombardier who went back to assist.

At this time also the Co-Pilot went to the rear of the ship to examine the
Control cables and make a general survey of the damage to the tail section.
He reported that about 1/3 of the left horizontal stabilizer and elevator
were off and that almost the entire vertical stabilizer and rudder had been
sheared off but that all control cables were O.K. However, the ship was
functioning quite normally except for the fact that we had to make turns
with aileron only. It also seemed to fly quite smoothly in spite of the
missing vertical stabilizer and rudder. It was therefore decided by the
pilot that a normal landing could be attempted.

Reaching the English coast we headed for our home field but the weather had
closed in and the ceiling was getting lower as we neared our field.
'Finally, we were forced to fly at tree-top heights in order to stay out of
the clouds, thus getting lost. All radio equipment was out and we were not
sure where the field was. Finally it began to rain, besides our other
trouble, so we decided to land at the first field we found. Pilot ordered
all crew members to radio room to prepare for crash landing. However, the
Navigator volunteered to remain in the nose of the ship to direct the Pilot
and Co-Pilot in their approach to the field and a final landing.

The landing was accomplished in the normal manner, taking advantage of a
slightly longer approach. Picked the longest runway which suited the wind
direction but still had to contend with a cross wind. With the aid of the
Navigator's directions we made a low approach to the runway, correcting for
draft by holding the windward wing low and holding it straight by jockeying
the throttles. "No, your wrong", we greased it on.

Made a perfect landing. After setting it on the ground it was noted that
the
right tire was flat However, this did not trouble us because the ship was
stalled out at low speed and slowed down immediately by use of brakes. It
was noted that the ship was almost dry of fuel. Positively no stress was
placed on the ship in landing. It was a landing as any normal landing would
be.

We now know from experience that a B-17 will loop, spin, pull out of a dive
when indicating 400 M.P.H., fly without a rudder and very little horizontal
stabilizer, and will land normally without a rudder and a flat tire added.
The "guts", courage, and confidence displayed by the crew of this mission is
highly commendable. The navigator displayed extreme courage when he
volunteered to remain in the nose to direct the Pilot in landing in almost
zero weather. The Co-Pilot deserves special commendation for his capable
assistance in maneuvering this ship, guarding the engine, his careful survey
of the damage, his assistance in determining the possibility of a safe
landing and finally his reassuring words to the crew over the interphone
during the homeward journey.

The gunners shot down nine (9) enemy aircraft and claimed to have damaged
at
least ten (10) more.

PILOT 1st Lt. JOHN W. RAEDEKE CO-PILOT 2nd Lt. JOHN E. URBAN

[bobbysocks]

THE MOST UNBELIEVABLE LANDING OF A B-17
by George Ureke, Lt. Colonel USAF (Ret.)

Flying a bombing mission out of Foggia, Italy, off of Tortorella US Army Air Field in Italy, during W.W.ll, our B-17 caught one Hell of a lot of flack. All four engines were still running, but ALL flight instruments failed. We had no airspeed indicator. Since we were returning from the bombing mission in formation we didn't really need flight instruments except for the approach and landing. When we arrived over the base at Tortorella, we peeled off, flying the landing pattern in trail formation. How to plan my approach with no air speed indicator? An idea came to me. We II drop behind the ship in front of us, so that on the final approach, we can establish a rate of closure to ensure that our approach would be above stall speed.

Well, in the morning, when we took off, the steel mat runway was covered with three inches of slimy mud.. It had been raining for weeks. Airplanes, taking off and landing just pushed the steel mat deeper into the mud. Every time an airplane took off or landed, more and more slimy mud had pushed up on top of the steel mat. So as we approached the mud-covered runway, there were three or four inches of slippery slime on top of the mat. But we were not worried (about coming in "hot"), until I called for flaps. Kenneth D. Goodwin, our copilot, replied, "We don't have any. They're not coming down". - And it was too late to crank them down by hand.

We weren't about to go around again without an airspeed indicator. Due to the "hot" approach speed we didn't touch down until we were half-way down the field. The airplane in front of us made a normal landing and turned off at a taxi-strip about five- hundred feet short of the end of the runway. That pilot managed to land short enough to turn to the left onto that first taxi strip. As he turned, he looked out his left window and saw that we were halfway down the field before we touched down. He turned to his co-pilot and says, "Look out that right window. George is going to crash into the gully at the end of the runway." (Several British bombers had hit that gully in the past, and they blew up).

We finally got the plane on the mud and I hit the brakes. no brakes! (in a B-17, the pilot and co-pilot can look out their window and see the wheel on their side). Every time I touched the brakes, the wheels would stop, lock, and we'd hydroplane over the mud. I had one choice, something we'd normally try to avoid. "Ground-loop" I pulled No. 3 and 4 engines all the way back. I pushed No. 1 and 2 throttles forward to take- off power, I called for "boosters" and started tapping the right brake (trying to ground loop to the right, and let centrifugal force tip the left wing into the ground). We'd damage the airplane but avoid crashing into the gully.

Normally, the plane would turn and leave the runway. But it was so slimy, the wheels had no friction to make it turn. The plane just kept sliding forward. No. 1 and 2 engines at full take-off power caused the airplane to spin around while sliding straight down the runway. As it approached 180 degrees, I pushed number 3 and 4 throttles full forward. Now we had "take off" power on all four engines. There we were, going backwards, toward the end of the runway with all four engines at full take-off power.

Well, we stopped right on the very end of the runway and immediately started to taxi back to the taxiway we just passed while we were sliding backwards.

You can imagine how scared our navigator, James W. Collier, and the bombardier, Lowell E. Clifton, were. Sitting in the nose of the airplane, as it approached the end of the runway and began to spin. This maneuver is one that I'm sure had never been done previously nor will it ever be done again. It isn't something anyone would want to practice. I can only say that on that landing, Ken Goodwin and I were both co-pilots. God was flying the airplane on that landing, which is why I call it the most unforgettable landing in a B-17.

And, you know, we never heard from anybody. Nobody ever came to ask what had caused us to land backward. All the medals we got were for far lesser accomplishments. That's why I say, it was God who made that most unbelievable landing in a B-17.

[bobbysocks]

lancaster stuff

first this....newscaster edward r murrow goes on a bombing raid in a 'caster...and gives an account. 20 mins long actual broadcast.

http://www.otr.com/orch_hell.shtml

Here's a strange story about what happened to a Lancaster...

When something went wrong on take-off it could mean disaster for an aircraft laden with high-explosive and incendiary bombs.
In April 1944, P/O Jimmy Griffiths and his crew arrived at Elsham Wolds to join 576 Squadron as 'new boys'. To their dismay, they were allocated the oldest Lancaster on the station.

One week and three operations later, their Flight Commander, whose posting to PFF had just come through, yielded to their protests and let them have his new Lanc BIII, LM527 UL-U2. It was a decision which very nearly cost the crew their lives.

Following the abortive take-off described below, the young Scots skipper and his crew reverted to their original BIII, ED888 UL-M2, in which they went on to complete their tour. Indeed this veteran Lanc was later to become Bomber Command's top-scoring 'heavy', with 140 operational sorties to its credit.




Briefing was over, final checks had been made on the aircraft and the crews were relaxing in the few minutes left before take-off time, on a lovely spring evening, April 30, 1944 - target Maintenon.

I was thrilled at the prospect of flying one of the latest Lancasters, so much superior to old M2, the veteran aircraft I had flown on my first three operations. The runway in use was the shortest one on the 'drome and necessitated revving up aginst the brakes, almost to full power, before take-off, similar to the method employed on aircraft carriers.

Time to go - always a tense moment - and we are soon lined up on the runway making the last quick cockpit check. "Rich mixture", "Propellers in fine pitch", "Flaps up", "Fuel gauges OK". Ready to go! Throttles are opened slowly against the brakes until the aircraft throbs with power, straining and vibrating until the brakes can barely hold her. brakes are released and we leap forward. Keep straight by use of throttles and rudder and ease the control column forward to bring the tail up. "Full power!" the engineer takes over the throttles and opens them fully, locking them in that position. The tail is now off the ground, giving full control on the rudders for keeping straight, and the airspeed indicator is creeping slowly up towards the take-off speed.

Something's wrong! We are nearing the end of the runway and haven't yet reached take-off speed. We should be airborne by now! A glance at the instruments shows that, whilst all four engines are running smoothly, they are not giving maximum power. Too late to stop - the fence at the end of the runway is right under our nose - speed is dangerously low.

I yank back on the stick and the aircraft labours painfully off the ground. We are on the point of stalling and I have to level out, praying that I'll miss the small hill beyond the fence. I have just time to shout "Wheels up!" when - Crash!!!

The aircraft shudders violently; the nose kicks up at a dangerous angle and I instinctively push the stick forward to avoid stalling. I ease the stick back quickly, flying a matter of inches above the ground which, providentially, is sloping downards. I nurse the aircraft along, still hugging the grass. The speed slowly increases beyond the danger mark and very gradually the altimeter needle creeps away from ZERO in answer to a slight backwards pressure on the stick.

I start to breathe again, brushing the perspiration from my brow and feel a cold chill up my spine as I think of the load of high explosive bombs beneath my feet hanging on their inadequate-looking hooks. "A fine start to an operation," I was thinking; but more was to follow.

We were climbing very slowly and I realised from the sluggishness of the controls that all was not well. Charlie Bint, the bomb aimer, climbed down into his compartment in the nose and was able to inform me that the starboard wheel had not fully retracted! It must have taken the full force of impact into the hill. No amount of pumping would budge it either up or down, and I knew we would not be able to continue the mission as it was taking too much power and consequently too much fuel to overcome the drag of the damaged wheel.

I flew east, still climbing very slowly, meaning to jettison the bombload in the North Sea and return to make an emergency landing.

One hour after take-off we had reached 9000 feet and were circling a few miles east of Grimsby, the North Sea looking cold and deserted underneath. I depressed the lever which should have opened the bomb doors but no red warining light appeared! This was serious. I dived steeply and pulled out quickly in the hope of shaking the doors open, but to no avail. The flight engineer reported that the tank for the hydraulic fluid was completely dry. It was obvious that in our attempts to retract the damaged wheel we had pumped all the fluid into the atmospshere through a broken pipeline.

There was no alternative but to return to base for instructions. It was safe to break radio silence now that the rest of the squadron had been on their way for almost two hours. The WAAF radio telephonist lost no time at all in passing my message to the Flying Control Officer and very soon I was talking to the Station Engineering Officer and finally to the 'old man' himself.

We were ordered to make further experiments, but when we had tried everything it was finally apparent that we were saddled with a bomber fully laden with bombs which couldn't be released and a damaged undercarriage which would make landing a hazardous affair not to be contemplated when our bombload was enough to blow an aerodrome to pieces!

"Stand by," I was ordered and we circled round, wondering how long it would take them to reach a decision. Tommy Atherton, the navigator, brought me a cup of coffee out of his Thermos flask and we had a quiet crew conference. "What do you think they'll decide, Skip?" - this from Taffy, one of the gunners.

I spoke the thought that had been in my mind since the bomb doors had refused to budge. "How would you like to join the Caterpilliar Club?" (This is a Club consisting of airmen who have baled out to save their lives.) There was a bit of joking, but it sounded rather forced and I called up the 'drome to ask them to speed up their decision.

"Reduce height to 5000 feet and stand by!" I knew then that I had correctly assumed what the order would be - we were coming down to a level where a parachute wouldn't drift too far from the 'drome!

I reported again at 5000 feet and the next instruction produced a stir of activity. "Fly upwind and order crew to bale out one at a time. Remain at controls and stand by." The crew needed no second bidding. Through they filed - two gunners, wireless operator, navigator, and engineer, filling the confined space of the cockpit, their parachutes fixed firmly across their chests. Charlie was already in his compartment in the nose, opening the escape hatch in the floor. As they stepped quietly out of my sight to take their turn at jumping, each one shook my hand vigorously as he passed.

In a very short time I was left alone, and very much alone I felt. The roar of the engines seemed to grow louder, the controls seemed heavier and the aircraft seemed suddenly to be larger, more powerful, more sinister. "All out," I advised control.

"Circle and stand by," I was ordered. Then folled the loneliest few minutes of my life and I was glad to hear 'the voice' again. "Fly across the 'drome on an exact course of 080 degrees. Engage automatic pilot ('George'). When exact height and course being maintained - bale out!"

I welcomed the opportunity of having something to occupy my attention and spent quite a long time adjusting the controls until the aircraft was flying 'hands off' at exactly 5000 feet on an exact course of 080 degrees. I engaged the automatic pilot, made a few final adjustments and then, as the 'drome appeared ahead, I hurried down into the bomb aimers compartment where the escape hatch lay open, almost invitingly.

I was glad that I had taken the precaution of having my parachute hooked on before the crew had gone and, with a final quick check, I crouched beside the hatch, my hand already clutching the steel handle of the rip-cord. I sat on the edge of the hole and let my legs dangle. The rush of air immediately forced them against the underside of the aircraft and I allowed myself to roll out into space, head first.

I did four complete somersaults, seeing the four exhaust pipes of the aircraft glowing each time I turned over. I was counting one, two, three, four at each somersault and suddenly thought I must be near the ground. I pulled the ripcord handle and it came away so easily that I remember gazing at my hand, which was still holding the handle, and thinking, "It hasn't worked!" Before I could feel any panic there was a rush of silk past my face, followed by a not too violent jerk and I found myself dangling comfortably under the silken canopy.

I felt a surge of absoulte exhilaration and was grinning like a fool. I wish I could describe the feeling of power, of remoteness, of unreality, of sheer exuberance I felt. No wonder our paratroops are such grand fighters!

There was no rush of air to indicate downward speed and it came quite a shock, on looking down, to see a field rushing up to meet me out of the darkness and a few scattered houses taking shape around it. I had hardly time to brace myself when I hit the ground, heels first, travelling backward. I sat down with a bump, rolled over in a backwards somersault and pressed the release catch to prevent being hauled along the ground. There was no need: the parachute flopped lazily over me and I lay still for a few moments, not beliving this was reality.

I bundled the parachute under my arm and trudged across the field in unwieldy flying boots towards a large house about fifty yards distant. Fortunately there was a telephone in the house and the old couple, whom I eventually wakened, plied me with questions and cups of tea until the car arrived from the 'drome.

All the crew had reported safe landings and some had already been picked up by the time I returned. There were many theories put forward regarding the part failure of the engines and it was finally decided that they must have been running on 'hot' air, a device used under icing conditions, which reduced the amount of power to each engine.

All this time the aircraft was flying steadily onwards towards enemy territory and we learned later that the Observer Corps had plotted its journey more than half-way across the North Sea, maintaining the height and course I had set.

The Duty Naviagtor who had given me the course computed that the fuel supply would last until the aircraft was somewhere in the Hamburg area. We can only guess the outcome.

Before abandoning the aircraft I had switched on every available light, and I often wonder what the Luftwaffe and the German AA gunners must have thought when they saw a large bomber approaching from the direction of England, lit up like a Christmas tree, flying steadily on a fixed course and blithely ignoring flak, searchlights and fighter attacks.

I like to think that 'George', guided by his saintly namesake, would point the aircraft in its final dive towards some important military objective, the destruction of which may have contributed in some way to the dramatic collapse of the Reich war machine which was soon to follow.

[bobbysocks]

and not to leave the italian boys out...

With twenty-six individual victories in aerial fight, Cap. Franco Lucchini was the top Italian scorer by the first World War and one of the few ones to inscribe himself of the title of Ace (5 or more victories) both in the Spanish civil war and in the Second World War.

He was born on December 24th 1914 in Rome, and he entered well soon the Aviation, achieving the military brevet in July 1936 at the Air school of Foggia as Reserve Officer.

During the war in Spain, enlisted him voluntary with the rank of Sottotenente, he was assigned to the 19a Sq. 23° Gr. “Asso di Bastoni”, with which on October 12th 1937 got his first victory flying a CR 32 fighter; he will conclude the war with 122 war missions, 5 individual victories, one silver medal and seven months of imprisonment after having been shoot down on July 22nd 1938.

Foggia Air School 1936. Lucchini sat on a training airplane.

To the enter of Italy in the WW2 in June of 1940, he is regular to the 90a Sq. within the 4° Stormo whose badge was an rampant horse, inheritance of the Greatest Italian ace of the Great war Francesco Baracca; perhaps the 4° Stormo will be not by chance the more victorious Italian wing of the war with almost 600 aerial planes shoot down, and well 32 aces, among which the best three: Martinoli, Lucchini and Ferrulli.

The 90a Sq., equipped with the new CR 42, was soon moved to northern Africa, where on June 11th 1940 Lucchini flown his first mission of the war, a flight of protection over Tripoli. Three days later Lucchini and others two pilots intercepted a formation of Gloster Gladiators near Bug Bug; they are the first English planes met by the pilots of 4° Stormo, and in the fight that follows a Gladiator is shoot down. From the official documents, kept in the Historical Office of AMI, it's very difficult to establish to what pilot is had to attribute the victory, above all because in the first years of the conflict officially the Regia Aeronautica assigned only collective victories, perhaps for don't exasperate rivalries inside the same squadron; it is sure however that at the same time, unofficially, both the single pilots and their commanders well kept track of the individual victories, as it is for instance read in the motivations of the awards assigned to the pilots.

On June 20th Lucchini together with three others pilots, took off from Tobruk, where the 90a Sq was based., to intercept an English Sunderland: after a long pursuit and repeated attacks (the fighter CR 42 had a maximum speed of around 430 km/h and was armed with only two 12,7 machine guns) the Sunderland is forced to ditch near Bardia, where the pilot , the only survival, was captured. Once more in the squadron's log book was written “a shared victory” but from the description of the fight it's easy to realize that the English four-engines is Lucchini's first victory in the WW2.

The takes off on alarm followed the flight patrols for the whole months of June and July, and in one of these missions, on July 24th, Lucchini gained his second victory against a Gladiator. Four days later it is the turn of two Blenheims intercepted after a take off on alarm and shoot down with two other pilots.

In the months that follows the intensity of the missions which the whole 4° Stormo was submitted, doesn't change, but in December a new enemy makes appearance on the scene: it is the English Hurricane, a fighter with 8 machine guns able to reach 530 km/h. The Hurricane is not the best fighter of the RAF, even if in the just won battle of Britain it has gotten more victories than the noble Spitfire, but towards the biplanes CR 42 technical superiority is clean. Despite everything however Italians fought well and several victories are also claimed.

To the beginning of January of 1941, the 90a Sq. is moved back to Italy to re-equip with the new Macchi C 200; Lucchini closed so the first turn of operations in Africa, during which he flew 103 missions of war and claimed 3 individual victories.

In the middle of June the 4° Stormo moved to Sicily: objective the island-fortress of Malta.

Activity is soon frantic and the Italian pilots are continually employed in missions of escort to the Cant Z 1007, recognitions and free hunting (that they always ended with the strafing of the Maltese airports). The defense of the island is entrusted to 6 RAF Squadrons equipped with Hurricane Mk I; this time however there aren't the obsolete CR 42s and the struggle against the more powerful C 200s of the 10° Gruppo (formed by 84a, 90a and 91a Sq.) is without doubt less uneven.

Lucchini, promoted Capitano in May, gained his first victory against an Hurricane on June 27th, while on September 4th in the official bulletin he is quoted for having individually shoot down two enemy fighters and other 22 (!) shared during two missions; it is clear that the well-known phenomenon of the “over claiming” common to all the Air Forces that fought in all the wars, is decidedly present in the italian claims. I think however that, all things considered, there is good faith in the claims of the pilots as they are brought in the official documents, extraneous to any propagandist tie: after all we are not speaking of the calculation of the goals in football-match, but of men that among thousand difficulties they had the obligation to shoot each other; this doesn't remove of course the importance to reconstruct the events underlining the true facts.

On September 27th during an escort to the Italian bombers against an English convoy to Malta, some airplanes, among which that of Lucchini, after two hours of flight are forced for the bad weather, to effect an emergency landing of Ustica. In the ditch Lucchini badly wounded his face, and he immediately was transported in Sicily with an hospital ship; he will come back in action only two months later just to fly his last two missions with 90a Sq. on November 21st and 23rd.

In December Lucchini is promoted commander of the 84a Sq and few days later the unit was transferred to Udine, together with the whole 10° Gruppo, to re-equiping with the new C 202 “Folgore"

During the operations against Malta Lucchini collected 55 war missions and 5 individual victories.

The 4° Stormo returned to Sicily at the beginning of May of 1942 full equipped with the Macchi C 202;

Lucchini, commanding the 84a Sq., is again hocked in operations against Malta, that however in the meantime had seen his own squadrons change the Hurricanes with the more powerful Spitfires Mk V.

In barely twenty days Lucchini flown other 14 missions and above all added to his score two Spitfires and others two probably destroyed.

On May 22nd the whole 4° Stormo moved to Martuba in northern Africa where the offensive of Rommel against the English troops is became; the fights are soon harsh and Lucchini is almost daily engaged. On June 6th he shoot down a P-40 (an american production fighter in strength to some RAF Squadrons as N°112 and N°250) and damaged others four during an action of free hunting above Bir Hacheim; on June 11th he was awarded with the fifth silver medal for military merit.

On July 16th above the sky of El Alamein Lucchini, and 3 others pilots, shoot down a P-40 but also his plane was damaged and forced to land at Kotefia an airport used by the Germans; two days later he was again in action shooting down together with Serg. Buttazzi another enemy fighter.

On October 20th Lucchini destroyed another P-40 but in the afternoon, during a dogfight with Spitfires and P-40s he is forced to an emergency landing after a precise enemy burst took away a propeller blade of his plane. Four days later still a take off on alarm against a formation of 25 Mitchell bombers and 40 P-40 fighters; with two other pilots Lucchini shoot down a P-40, damaged two B-25s and one P-40, but he was also stricken and despite he had a bullet in an arm and another in a leg, he reached the base of El Daba where crash landed; later the day he come back to Fuka, where the unit was based, but he was immediately sent to Italy for a long convalescence. Lucchini ended his second African tour, where during five months he completed 94 war missions and gotten 10 individual victories.

1943 year saw the withdrawal of the Axis troops from their positions in Africa tightened by now by the vice of Montgomery's troops that went up from Libya and those Americans that advanced from west through Algeria.

The 4° Stormo returned in Italy by the beginning of January to be lined up in June in Sicily, that represented by now the first line of the front; the attacks to the island were more and more frequent in sight of the imminent Anglo-American landing.

Lucchini rejoined the unit in March of 1943, and by June 20th was appointed at the command of the 10° Gruppo partly equipped with the new Macchi C 205s.

On July 5th Lucchini after being taken off on alarm with six pilots, intercepted a large formation of USAAF B-17s at the height of 5000 meters, escorted by 50 Spitfires; after having shoot down a fighter, his victory number 26, he launched himself against the formation of B-17s; it is the first time he faced these powerful four-engines, everyone armed with 10 machine guns, all tightened one to the other close so much to represent a real wall of fire. Lucchini with his small C 202 and his only two 12,7 guns succeeded in damaging 3 bombers, then surely stricken he fell down crashing to dead near Catania.

As Group commander, Lucchini flown only 5 war missions; in his log book in date 5/7/1943 it is read, where the holder usually affixed his signature, a melancholic “not re-entered ”.

In February 1952 he was awarded with the highest italian honour the Medaglia d'oro al valor militare (M.O.V.M.)

Combat record of Capitano Franco Lucchini

According with official documents, Lucchini gained 5 individual victories during the Spanish Civil War, 21 individual and 52 shared victories during WW2. The latter figure however is very inflationated; it was common for the Regia Aeronautica credit shared claims every pilots involved in the action without any further details, even if some one didn't shoot a single bullet.
I quoted Lucchini's shared victories only when I can assume he surely shoot; all the other kills were in his log-book simple because he was in action.

[bobbysocks]

and lastly...here's one of my favorite aces...Kit Carson.

I was leading Blue Flight of Dollar Squadron providing escort for the 353rd Fighter group enroute to strafe the oil reserve stores at Leipzig. We were in the vicinity of Magdeburg, Germany when two large formations of bandits were reported. One of the formations, still unidentified, made a complete turn from a head on position and made an initial attack on us from our 8 o'clock. We dropped our tanks, turned and met them head on. We wheeled again and tacked on to the rear of the formation which consisted of 50 to 75 Focke-Wulf 190's. I closed to about 300 yards to the nearest one and fired a medium burst with no lead, getting numerous strikes. He started to burn and went into a turning dive to the left.I believe the pilot must have been dead as he never recovered from the dive, crashed and exploded. I returned to the main part of the fight again closing on the one nearest to me.I opened fire once again at about 300 yards, firing two short bursts, getting strikes all over the cockpit and engine. He started to smoke and dropped out of the formation and rolled to the right until he was in a split-ess position, never recovering from this attitude.I saw the plane crash and burn, and the pilot did not get out.
Returning again to the scrap, I pulled into the nearest one at about 400 yards and fired a short burst, noting a few hits. He broke violently to the left and I broke with him.I pulled a lead on him and fired to long bursts getting strikes on the engine and cockpit. He started to smoke and burn badly, the pilot jettisoned his cockpit canopy and bailed out. I watched him fall for some distance but did not see a chute open, the FW 190 crashed about 50 yards from a house in a small town. I could still see the main battle about two miles ahead of me and as I started to catch them, I saw a straggler on the deck. I dropped down to engage him but he saw me coming and turned left away from me. I gave chase for about five minutes before I caught him. I opened fire at 400 yards getting strikes on the right side of the fuselage. He turned sharply to the right and I picked up a few degrees of lead on him, firing to more bursts getting more strikes on the fuselage, the pilot jettisoned his canopy and bailed out. As I was chasing this one, another formation of about 30 to 40 FW 190's passed about 500 feet above me and 1500 feet in front, but they made no attempt to engage me or help their fellow. They continued on a heading of 20 or 30 degrees.
I pulled up and set course for home-base when another Focke-Wulf 190 made an attack from 7 o'clock high. We broke into him and he wheeled into a zooming climb. I chased him gaining slowly. Suddenly he dropped his nose and headed for the deck, I gave chase and caught him in about five minutes. I opened fire at 400-450 yards but missed, I closed further and fired another short burst getting strikes on the fuselage. The plane started to smoke; I fired again as he made a hard turn to the right observing more hits on the fuselage. Then the pilot jettisoned his canopy and I broke off my attack to the right expecting him to bail out. I waited for him to bail but he didn't so I turned back to engage him again. I was still about 700 yards away when the pilot pulled the nose up sharply and left his ship; his chute opened a couple of seconds later. During the whole encounter my wing man, Flight Officer O.T.Ridley, remained with me. His performance as a wing man could not be surpassed.
I claim five(5) Focke-Wulf 190's destroyed in the air.