In their own words...

[bobbysocks]

The highest scoring Fw 190 ace, Oberfeldwebel Otto Kittel, began his career on the Bf 109, but started slowly. An NCO pilot with the famed JG 54 Grünherz, the "Green Hearts," Kittel found the range once his unit converted to the Focke-Wulf in early 1943.

He was born on 21 Feb.1917 in Kronsdorf (in the Sudeten region of the present Czech Republic), and joined the 2.Staffel of JG 54 in February 1941. On 31.May 1941, due to engine trouble, he bailed out of his Bf 109 F-2, and landed at Spikeroog, only lightly injured. In June of 1941, with the start of Operation Barbarossa, he shot down a Yak-1 fighter, an SB-2 bomber and an IL-2. By the end of 1941, he had achieved 17 victories (not a very impressive number, considering the relatively easy time that the Luftwaffe had in those early days). JG 54 was based at Krasnogvardeisk.

In July, 1942, he was married, by means of a long-distance ceremony Fertrauung, a German wartime policy. On 19.Feb.1943 he shot down his 39th plane, which also was the 4000th victory of JG 54.

After achieving his 47th victory on 15 March 1943 (while flying FW 190A-4, serial number 2481), Kittel made an emergency landing 60 kilometers (37 miles) behind Russian lines. After landing on an open icy field, he immediately set out for some woods he saw at 2 kilometers distance. Sitting in the woods for a short break, he searched his pockets and found three "Drops" and two cigarette packets, but no matches. He also had a gun, a clock and a compass. In his haste to leave his landing site, he had forgotten his supplies and his gloves. Bitterly cold and underclothed, he crossed the frozen Ilmen Lake and after 3 days without food, reached the German troops. After he returned to his Group, 18.March 1943, he was promoted to Oberfeldwebel and got the German Cross in gold.

He received the Ritterkreuz des Eisernen Kreuzes (Knight`s Cross to the Iron Cross) on 29 Oct. 1943 upon achieving his 123rd victory. And he got the "Oak Leaves" in April, 1944.

From November 1943 through January 1944, he was Instructor of the EJGr.Ost, in Biarritz, France. 31.December 1943 , Kittel started to attack American bombers, but didn't get involved in a dogfight. Some of his EJGr.Ost comrades were upset because of that.

In March 1944, Kittel returned to JG 54 on the Russian Front, but after just two months was transfered to the western front, the Normandy invasion area, to help III./JG 54.

He earned his Schwerter (Swords) on 25 November 1944 after achieving 239th victory.

Kittel was killed on February 14, 1945 (his 583rd mission), over Courland by an Il-2 Stormovik.


Erich Rudorffer
Leading Bf 109 Ace

He flew over 1,000 missions, with 222 aerial victories, and was shot down 16 times, including 9 bailouts. He flew the Bf.109 in the Battle of Britain in late 1940.

He went to Tunisia in late 1942 when the Luftwaffe sought to check the American advances in North Africa. In February, 1943, he was flying the Fw.190 with J.G. 2 against the Americans. On the 9th, while based at Kairouan, his unit got word of an attack by dozens of USAAF bombers and fighters. They attacked the B-17s, as the P-40s, P-38s, Spitfires and Hurricanes came to defend them. In the ensuing dogfight, the P-40s went into a defensive Lufbery. But Rudorffer repeatedly penetrated it, and shot down six of the Curtiss fighters in a few minutes. As the dogfight broke up, he spotted some P-38s below, and destroyed two of them. Eight in one day! One of his best days ever.

He was sent to Russia in August, and achieved great success on that fronat as well, downing eleven Russian machines on two different occasions.

In 1944, he flew the Me.262 jet against the U.S. bombers that were attacking Germany. While the Me.262 was very fast,it had a lot of bugs, and there were simply too many Allied aircraft by that time.

Rudorffer also survived the war.

Gerhard Barkhorn
Second-highest scoring ace of all time

Gerhard Barkhorn scored 301 victories, achieved in 1,104 missions; all his victories were won on the Russian Front.

He was born on 20 May 1919 at Königsberg in East Prussia. In 1937, he joined the Luftwaffe, and began flight training in March 1938. After initial posting to 3./JG 2, Leutnant Barkhorn was transferred to 6./JG 52 on 1 August 1940. He flew his first missions during the Battle of Britain but did not shoot down any aircraft at this time. He was shot down over the Channel, and was rescued.

JG 52 transferred to the East just before Operation Barbarossa, and Barkhorn was soon flying ten sorties a day. Barkhorn achieved his first victory during his 120th mission on 2 July 1941 over the Eastern Front. Thereafter he was to score steadily, if relatively unspectacularly, in comparison to other Eastern Front Luftwaffe aces. On his best single mission he scored four victories, on his best day seven.

Highlights of Barkhorn's career include:

5 January 1942 - his 30th victory
1 March - Staffelkapitän of 4./JG 52
25 July - wounded while flying Bf 109 F-4 (# 1338 'White 5'
23 August - awarded the Ritterkreuz, with 64 victories
19 December - his 100th victory

11 January 1943 - awarded the Oak Leaves, with 105 victories
8 August - his 150th victory
1 September - Gruppenkommandeur of II./JG 52
30 November - his 200th victory

23 January 1944 - 1,000 combat missions (the first fighter pilot in history to do so)
13 February - his 250th victory
2 March - awarded the Swords

5 January 1945 - his 301st, and last, victory
In the month of May, 1942 he recorded seven victories, 16 in June, and 31 in July. After a two month break, he recorded 14 victories in October, 7 in November, and 17 in December.
He claimed 24 victories in August, 1943, 15 in September, 23 in November, and 28 in December, including seven on 28 December (his best day of combat). His success did not come without cost. He was shot down many times (some source say 7, some 9), he bailed out once, and was wounded twice. On 31 May 1944, Barkhorn was flying his sixth mission of the day in Bf 109 G-6 (WNr 163195) 'Black 5,' when he was bounced by a Russian Airacobra and shot down. He received severe wounds to his right arm and leg which put him out of action for four months. He returned to combat duty at the end of October.

On 16 January 1945, Major Barkhorn was transferred to take command of JG 6 serving on Reichsverteidigung duties based at Posen. He led the unit until 10 April 1945 but was still suffering the effects of his wounds and eventually relinquished command for another spell in hospital. On recovery he joined JV 44. On 21 April 1945, flying an Me 262 jet fighter, an engine failed. He broke off his attack on some American bombers and returned to base at Riem. Pursued by the Mustang fighter escort he crash-landed his crippled machine in a clearing. The cockpit canopy, which he had opened to enable a quick escape, slammed shut on his neck. This put him back in hospital and out of the war.

After the war Barkhorn became a Generalleutnant in the Bundesluftwaffe. He retired in 1976. He died, with his wife Christl, in an automobile accident on 6 January 1983.

more on Hans-Joachim "Jochen" Marseille
The Star of Africa
One of the real playboys among the Experten was Hans-Joachim Marseille. Fighter pilots have always had an eye for the ladies, but Marseille, with his striking good looks and fame as the "Star of Africa," really indulged in exra-curricular activities. At 158 aerial victories, he was the leading Luftwaffe ace against Western fliers, and one of the nine aces to earn the "Diamonds."

Born in 1919, the son of an Army officer, Marseille joined the Luftwaffe in 1938. He qualified as a fighter pilot and was selected as an officer candidate, but, due to his lack of discipline and irresponsibility, was the last of his cadet class to earn his commission. Assigned to I/JG 2 in August 1940, he shot down his first enemy airplane, a Hawker Hurricane that month. His undisciplined attitude extended to his flying, as he would plunge into any dogfight, regardless of the tactical situation. During the Battle of Britain, he claimed five more victories, and was himself, shot down four times over the Channel.

He partied so hard that he frequently was unfit to fly, so that his commander, Macky Steinhoff, wanted him out, and he was transferred to I/JG 27 by the end of the year. The commander of that unit was considerably more flexible, and when they were transferred to Libya in April, 1941, the dearth of women helped Marseille focus on his work.

Marseille increased his skills gradually, learning to get close, close, close to his targets. By getting close and developing his deflection shooting, he minimized the amount of ammunition used to shoot down each victim, averaging just fifteen bullets each! His victories and medals mounted up: by February 1942, he had 50 and the Ritterkreuz; by June 6, 75 and the Eichenlaub. In the summer of 1942, he really hit his stride, and in just twelve days in June, shot down another twenty-six, for a total of 101, earning the Schwerter. On one day, September 2, he shot down seventeen aircraft in three sorties, bringing his total to 126, and earning him the Billanten.

September would see him score 54 kills, his most productive month. The 17 enemy aircraft shot down included eight in 10 minutes, as a result of this feat he was presented with a type 82 Volkswagen Kübelwagen by an Italian Regia Aeronautica squadron. This was the most aircraft from Western Allied air forces shot down by a single pilot in one day. Meeting Rommel, on 16 September, "The Desert Fox" congratulated Marseille on becoming the youngest Hauptmann in the Luftwaffe.

Marseille continued scoring multiple kills throughout September, including seven on 15 September. Between 16-25 September Marseille failed to increase his score due to a fractured arm. As a result he had been forbidden from flying by Eduard Neumann. Marseille had borrowed a Macchi C.205 from neighbouring Italian Squadron to test fly. The aircaft was the personal "mount" of Italian ace Lt Emanuele Annoni. Marseille crashed the aircraft on landing, highlighting his deficiencies in Marseille's flying skills. Marseille was becoming physically exhausted by the frenetic pace of combat. After his last combat on the 26 September, Marseille was reportedly on the verge of collapse after a 15-minute battle with a formation of Spitfires, during which he scored his seventh victory of that day.

Death
The two missions of 26 September 1942 had been flown in Bf 109G-2/Trops, in one of which Marseille had shot down seven enemy aircraft. Over the next three days Marseille's Staffel was rested and taken off flying duties. On 28 September Marseille received a telephone call from Generalfeldmarschall Erwin Rommel asking to return with him to Berlin, but Marseille declined for personal reasons. In a 1955 biographical movie, it was intimated that he had become aware of the Holocaust and disdained meeting Hitler on that account, but, there's no real evidence of this.

On 30 September 1942, Marseille was leading his Staffel on a Stuka escort mission, during which no contact with enemy fighters was made. While returning to base, his new Bf 109G-2/Trop's cockpit began to fill with smoke; blinded and half asphyxiated, he was guided back to German lines by his wingmen. Upon reaching friendly lines, "Yellow 14" had lost power and was drifting lower and lower. Marseille deemed his aircraft no longer flyable and decided to bail out, his last words being "I've got to get out now, I can't stand it any longer".

His Staffel, which had been flying a tight formation around him, peeled away to give him the necessary room to maneuver. Marseille rolled his aircraft onto its back, the standard procedure for bail out, but due to the smoke and slight disorientation, he failed to notice that the aircraft had entered a steep dive and was now travelling at a considerably faster speed. He worked his way out of the cockpit and into the rushing air only to be carried backwards by the slipstream, the left side of his chest striking the vertical stabiliser of his fighter, either killing him instantly or rendering him unconscious to the point that he could not deploy his parachute. He fell almost vertically, hitting the desert floor seven km south of Sidi Abdel Rahman. He had not even attempted to open his parachute, and was dead by the time he hit the ground.

His death, along with two other aces, severely affected morale in JG 27, and the unit was shortly withdrawn from North Africa. Many authorities regard Marseille as the best marksman and the best fighter pilot of WW2. The rudder of his last airplane, marked with his 158 victories, is in the Luftwaffe museum in Berlin.

[bobbysocks]

Rudy Augarten - avenging the Holocaust
Written by Eric Bogomolny.

i see some irony that isreal uses former nazi ac for its defense...anyway

Rudy Augarten was in his early 20s when he flew P-47 Thunderbolts for the US Airforce. On June 10, 1944, soon after D-Day, Augarten left from a base in southern England for a search-and-destroy patrol in a flight of four P-47. The sky was overcast, and the planes came down through the clouds over the French town of Caen. Below, a battle raged between the Germans and the Allies. Caen was well defended by the Germans, and anti-aircraft fire started to rock the planes. The pilots quickly pulled up to avoid the German flak. Suddenly, smoke began to fill the cockpit of Augarten-s P-47. He had been hit. "You-re on fire!" one of the other pilots radioed to Augarten. Augarten-s situation was critical. By now, the patrol had drifted further inland over German-occupied France, and Augarten needed to bail out. He opened the plane-s canopy and dove over the side. The bailout did not go smoothly. Augarten had forgotten to take off his oxygen mask, and it hit him in the face. As he plummeted toward the ground, he groped for his parachute cord. It took a few moments, but he finally found it and pulled. Augarten landed in back of a French farmhouse. As Augarten hit the ground, he had with him only the uniform on his back and an escape kit that contained some food and a little bit of money v but no gun. The farmer in whose field Augarten came down had seen the plane crash. The Frenchman ran out to give the pilot a pair of overalls, but, apparently fearing the Germans might come at any moment, quickly sent Augarten on his way. Augarten started walking and, after about a mile or so, came to another farmhouse. He knocked on the door, and a farmer answered. Augarten knew only a few phrases of French, and he used one then: "Je suis American" ("I-m an American"). The farmer and his wife decided to hide Rudy. But he stilt wasn't safe. German troops came by the farmhouse regularly, and each time Augarten hid in the attic while they searched the area. After two weeks, Augarten felt he could no longer endanger his French hosts. He left early one evening and wandered through the countryside. He tried to work his way toward the front, hoping to sneak past the Germans and back to the American lines. As he walked, he was constantly on the lookout for German patrols. After hiking all night, he came upon another farmhouse, but this one looked strangely familiar. Augarten couldn't believe it v he had walked in a giant circle, and was right back where he started. He stayed for another week, but grew increasingly concerned about the harm to his hosts if the Germans found him. Augarten was also desperate to get back into action. There were railroad tracks a few hundred yards from the farm, and this time he decided to follow the tracks toward the front line. After walking for a while, he came upon some Frenchmen, and again identified himself as an American GI. One of the men led Augarten to a ditch, where a group of British paratroopers who had been dropped off-course were already hiding. Augarten and the other soldiers stayed in the ditch for about a week. Each day, a Frenchman brought food. One day, however, he told the men he had seen Germans in the nearby fields. With danger so close by, he could not continue to help them. The men decided to break up into pairs and leave the area. Most decided to go to Spain, about five hundred miles away. But Rudy and one of the paratroopers decided to try to get through the front lines. Before going their separate ways, they divided up their weapons, and Augarten ended up with a pistol and a grenade. That first night, Augarten and his partner encountered a group of German soldiers. From a distance, one of the Germans called out in Augarten-s direction, "Sind sie das, Karl?" ("Is that you, Karl?"). There was no time to think. "Ja", Rudy answered the soldier, using his scant knowledge of German to maximum effect, and walked away. Apparently convinced that he was another member of their unit, the Germans did not follow. Augarten and the British paratrooper continued walking through the night. Several times they crept past German soldiers sleeping in foxholes, as the two moved closer and closer to the front. As day broke, however, their luck finally ran out. They were walking down a road bordered on both sides by hedgerows when Augarten saw a German soldier a short distance away. "Halt!" - the soldier shouted. "I-m going to give up," - whispered Rudy-s partner. Augarten had other plans. He threw the grenade at the German and then scurried behind one of the hedgerows on the side of the road, finding shelter in a ditch. All hell broke loose. The grenade exploded. The Germans began firing their machine guns wildly, raking the hedgerows. They were trying to get him to fire back and give away his position. Augarten kept still. The Germans stopped shooting and started to search the area. Finally, after about half an hour, they spotted him. This time, Augarten had no choice. He surrendered, and was taken prisoner along with the British paratrooper. Augarten was relieved to discover that the Germans who captured him were not from the SS. Like all Jewish servicemen in the American military, his dogtags identified his religious faith with the letter "H" for "Hebrew." Augarten knew that, as a Jew, he would not have had much hope of surviving capture by the SS. But Augarten-s captors were not interested in his religion or ethnic origin. They took him and the paratrooper to an abandoned brick factory, where two captured Canadian pilots were also being held. After three days, the prisoners were moved to a horse farm, which had been converted by the Germans to serve as a POW camp. The farm had a U-shaped building with nearly two dozen stables surrounding an open courtyard. In each stable, the Germans placed ten-to-fifteen Allied soldiers, separated by rank. Augarten, a second lieutenant, found himself in a stable with thirteen other officers. Each morning, the Germans lined up the prisoners in the courtyard and counted them. Afterward, Augarten and the others were free to wander in and out of the stables, and talk to other prisoners. Soon after arriving at the farmhouse, Augarten met Gerald Gordon, a British paratrooper. Gordon worked in the farmhouse kitchen making food for the prisoners. Several days after the two men first met, Gordon smuggled a knife from the kitchen back into the stables and gave it to Augarten-s group of officers. With the knife in their possession, the men began to discuss a possible escape attempt. Augarten wanted to go, as did Gordon, the two Canadian pilots from the brick factory, and two British officers. The rest decided to stay. A few nights later, the six escapees gathered in Augarten-s stall. Using the knife, they cut an opening in the stable's soft wood ceiling. One by one, each man climbed through to the attic above. After a short search of the attic, they found a window. They realized their plans had not gone unnoticed. Someone, probably the wife of the stable owner, had left a large dish of butter by the window. None of the six had eaten butter for weeks. The two British officers quickly dug in with their bare hands. Augarten and the others grew impatient. They wanted to move on as quickly as possible. The British finally finished eating, and the men huddled around the window. Looking out, they spied a guard making a pass every quarter hour. The window was about fifteen feet above the ground, and the men knew they risked injury if they tried jumping. Moving quickly, they fastened a rope from some extra clothes and, timing the guard's passes, lowered themselves to the ground. The men went down in groups of two. Augarten watched as the two Canadian pilots lowered themselves down and ran across a street adjoining the stable. Augarten and Gordon went next. After sliding down to the ground, the two made their way across the street and into the woods. They hiked for a while, before running into a Frenchman who gave them some civilian clothes. But the two soon realized that the woods were slowing them down, and decided to try their luck on the roads instead. German tanks and trucks and refugees escaping the fighting choked the roads. Augarten and Gordon walked with the refugees, using them as cover. Suddenly, Augarten heard a shout. "Halt!" He turned and saw two German SS officers motioning for him and Gordon to come over. Wearing French civilian clothing and carrying their uniforms in bundles under their arms, Augarten and Gordon walked over to the Germans. Augarten tried to remain calm, but he was gripped with fear. The SS officers began asking the men questions in German. Augarten responded in his broken French. Luckily, the Germans knew even less French than Augarten, and didn't realize the American barely spoke the language. The officers motioned for the two men to continue on their way. The road became more and more clogged with Germans. Augarten and Gordon reluctantly decided it was too dangerous to continue walking out in the open. They found a farm and, after identifying themselves as Allied soldiers, asked if they could stay. The owner was too fearful to allow them to stay in the house. However, he agreed to let Augarten and Gordon hide in a little shack on his property, about a half-mile away from the main house. They remained there for three weeks, receiving food twice a day from the farmer's young daughter, Madeline. Then, one day, Madeline told the two men that the Germans were growing suspicious. They were coming over to the house frequently, making it too dangerous for Augarten and Gordon to stay. The family directed the escapees to another area where some other soldiers were hiding. A few miles away, Rudy and Gordon found half-dozen black Senegalese troops in hiding. They had hooked up with members of the French underground. The group told the two that the Germans were retreating from the area. The Senegalese were thinking of more than simple escape from the retreating Germans. They were armed, and hoped to pick off some of the Germans. With Augarten and Gordon in tow, the Senegalese and their underground comrades positioned themselves along a road bounded on both sides by a ditch and a hedgerow. The men split up into two groups and hid behind the hedgerows. As dusk approached, a German soldier riding a motorcycle came speeding down the road. The men held their fire, and the motorcycle passed quickly and without incident. About five minutes later, the same motorcyclist came back from the op- opposite direction. This time, one of the men squeezed off a round. The shot missed, and the German sped off into the distance, About an hour later, Augarten heard something coming up the road. He looked in the direction of the sound, and saw a group of soldiers marching alongside a tank. In the twilight, Augarten couldn't see the soldiers very well. All of a sudden, shots were fired from down the road toward the men and their tank. The tank stopped and the soldiers dove into the ditches sandwiched between the road and the hedgerows, only a few feet away from Augarten-s group. Augarten held his breath, straining not to make any noise. Just then, one of the soldiers who had jumped into the ditch whispered loudly, "For Christ's sake, McCarthy, get off my foot!" Augarten couldn't believe his luck. "Are you Americans?" he asked the men. "Yes. Who are you?" came the reply. The soldiers took Augarten and the others to the company commander, who arranged for the group to be driven to Allied lines, about fifteen miles away. The American's two-month adventure through German-occupied France had finally come to an end. Considering the ordeal Augarten had just been through, the army felt it appropriate to send him home instead of back into combat. But Augarten refused. He had pulled a lot of strings to get into the fighting in the first place, and had flown only ten missions before being shot down. Augarten formally requested permission to remain in Europe with his unit, and his request was granted. He telegraphed his parents to tell them he had survived, and went back to flying. During the remainder of his tour, Augarten flew over ninety missions. One of these stood out from the rest. During that flight, Rudy engaged several Messerschmitts, shooting down two. That feat earned him the Distinguished Flying Cross.

After the war, the twenty-three-year-old Augarten returned to the States and began his university studies. He was studying International Relations at Harvard, as events were heating up in Palestine in early 1948. On the suggestion of a friend, Augarten attended a lecture at the Harvard Library given by a young Palestinian diplomat, who turned out to be Abba Eban, then a diplomat and representative of the new State of Israel and, much later, Israel's foreign minister. After the lecture, Augarten told a friend active in a local Zionist group that he wanted to do something for his fellow Jews in Palestine. The friend gave him the address of someone to see in New York. On his spring vacation, Augarten visited the offices of Land and Labor for Palestine, a front organization recruiting volunteers to fight for Israel, in Manhattan and told them about his background. At that time, the Israelis had been able to recruit only a handful of pilots, and they were very impressed with his war record. They asked if he could go to Palestine immediately. Augarten agreed, and went to tell his parents about his decision. Augarten-s parents were bitterly opposed to his returning to flying. The strain of having a son missing in action for more than two months had taken its toll. They were not prepared for Augarten to return to the dangers of combat. Deferring to his parents, Augarten decided not to do anything immediately. He returned to his studies at Harvard. As reports of the fighting in Palestine got worse, however, Augarten could not stay away any longer. He got back in touch with Land and Labor and arranged to fly out as soon as exams were over. To avoid another confrontation with his parents, he sent them a letter, timed to arrive after his departure. Rudy arrived in Israel shortly before the second truce, after receiving his Messerschmitt training in Czechoslovakia.

A few words needs to be said about the main fighter plane of the Sherut Avir v Air Service, as the Israeli Air force was called in the beginning of the War for Independence. I personally consider the fact that this plane was Israel's first fighter one of the biggest ironies of history. The correct name of this plane is Avia S-199. After World War 2 a large number of Messerschmitt BF-109G airframes was left at the Czechoslovakian Avia factory, which was building planes for the Germans during the occupation. But the Daimler-Benz DB-605 engines used on the real Messerschmitts were not available. However, Junkers Jumo-211 engines were. These Jumo-211 engines were fitted to the Me-109 airframes. This resulted in the plane that was extremely cheap to produce, but with such flight characteristics, that the pilots, who flew it for Israel, nicknamed it "Nazi Revenge". The plane was called Me-109 out of habit, or, maybe, out of wishful thinking. Unfortunately, it was very far from the vaunted Messerschmitt flown by many German aces during World War 2. The engine switch caused the plane to pull left on take-off and right on landing, sometimes so violently that the Me-109 actually flipped over. Another problem was that its two nose machine guns had a tendency to go out of sync, causing several pilots to literally shoot themselves down. In addition to this, the 20 mm cannon that was firing through the propeller hub in the original Me-109 had to be removed. To increase the firepower two 20 mm cannons were added in the underwing pods, causing additional drag and weight increase. Nevertheless, the Israelis were happy to get any fighters, and even with all these problems, the Me-109 was still fighter plane enough for the veteran pilots of the new Israeli Air Force to hold their own against the superior Spitfires flown by the Egyptians.

Israel was in short supply of almost everything, and with less than ten serviceable fighter planes in the entire country, the 101st, the only fighter squadron in the country, was particularly afflicted. It didn't have enough planes for the two dozen pilots who were capable of flying them, and there was competition for each flight. On October 16, 1948, one day into the first major Israeli offensive against the Egyptians called Operation Yoav, Augarten-s turn had finally arrived. Egypt's air base at El Arish had been one of the sites of the previous day's raid by Israel's only fighter squadron, the 101st. Augarten was on a photo-reconnaissance mission to determine what targets the air force had destroyed, and what it needed to finish off. Although his assignment was simple, he was happy for the chance to be flying at all. Rudy flew southwest toward the coast. Suddenly, in the distance, he spotted two Spitfires flying in formation. Augarten could tell by their shape that they were not Me-109s, like the plane he was flying. Rudy was too far away to make out their markings, but it didn't matter. Even though the Israeli Air Force had several Spitfires in its arsenal, he knew immediately that the two Spits were Egyptian. Because mechanical problems and fuel shortages limited the Israeli Air Force to only a few planes in the air at any one time, the pilots were always confident when they saw another plane that it was not one of their own. Augarten carefully got into position behind the two Egyptians, hoping they wouldn't detect his approach. Just then, fellow 101 pilot Leon Frankel, who was patrolling in the area, saw Augarten beginning to engage the Spits. Trying to come to Augarten-s aid, Frankel rolled his plane over and dove toward the combatants. But before he reached the scene, Augarten lined up one of the Spits in his gunsight, and fired a burst from the Me-109-s two 7.92 millimeter machine guns. Pieces of the Spitfire flew off as the bullets pierced its thin aluminum body. The Egyptian plane plummeted toward Israeli lines, leaving a trail of black smoke. The other Spit fled the battle scene. With no other enemy planes in sight, Frankel and Augarten fell into formation for the trip back to the base. A few days later, Augarten got a treat few fighter pilots ever receive. An army unit took him by jeep to see firsthand the wreckage of the plane he had downed. Smiling broadly, he posed for a photograph in front of what remained of the Spit. With that victory, Augarten had experienced the Czech version of the Me-109 at its best.

His victory at the beginning of Operation Yoav was his first as a pilot in the Israeli Air Force, but it would not be his last. The next day after the capture of Beersheba, Rudy Augarten was again in the air over the Negev. This time, Augarten was in one of the squadron's new Spitfires. He was not alone on this flight. Canadian Jack Doyle flew the other Spit at Augarten-s side. As the two patrolled, they spotted four Egyptian Spitfires. Veteran pilots, Doyle and Augarten turned to come out of the sun at the enemy planes. They each picked a target, coming in with their guns blazing. Augarten recorded his second kill of the war, Doyle his first. The two pilots also damaged the other two Egyptian planes before returning home.

On November 11, Rudy Augarten left Kastina for a two-plane patrol near Egypt's El Arish air base. Augarten-s wingman, a South African named Boris Senior, noticed an Egyptian Dakota lining up to land. He dove down to attack. "What are you doing? This is a truce," Augarten radioed to Senior. But by then it was too late, Senior had already fired on the Egyptian. The Dakota kept flying, though, and it was clear that Senior had missed. With his wingman having already fired his guns, Augarten felt the fallout would be no greater if the Dakota was brought down. He maneuvered behind the Dakota and fired. His bullets found their mark, and the Egyptian plane crashed just before the airfield. Rudy Augarten was particularly adept at this, as his performance in the first four days of Operation Horev showed. On December 22, he climbed into a Spitfire in response to a report of Egyptian planes in the area, and damaged a Macchi that was about to land at the El Arish air- field. Two days later, he flew a P-51 Mustang on a fighter patrol. Later that same day, he escorted a bomber on an attack on the El Arish airfield, this time flying an Me-109. The next day, he was back in the Spitfire for a photo-reconnaissance mission over Egyptian positions. During the course of the war, he would shoot down four Egyptian planes, a total matched only by Jack Doyle. Augarten, who had flown a P-47 Thunderbolt during World War II, made his four kills from an Me-109, a P-51 Mustang and twice from a Spitfire. It was a remarkable display of flying skill. Many stayed on for at least a few months to help train young Israelis to fill the void created by the departing volunteers. This was particularly the case in the air force. In the 101 Squadron, Rudy Augarten and some other pilots remained in Israel to train the first class of Israeli fighter pilots. Augarten then returned to his studies at Harvard to complete his degree. He then came back to Israel, where he served for two years as the commander of the air base at Ramat David. When he resigned from the air force, he did so with the rank of lieutenant colonel.



Strange Encounter" by Roy Grinnel is depicting Rudy Augarten-s 1st victory for the Israeli Air Force. On the right - emblem of 101st

[bobbysocks]

Anecdotes from Glatton

a collection of short anecdotes by various former members of the 457th Bomb Group. (from the 457th bg site )

British courtesy a la hospitality"

Returning from a mission in the Fall of 1944 in early evening on a fog bound night, we were short of gas and not certain of our position; searched for any likely landing spot. At a very low altitude we passed a stirp of concrete that appeared to be an acceptable solution to our problem. Following a sharp 360 degree turn we made an unapproved landing which ended with the plane coming to a halt abruptly at the end of a runway. An unfamiliar "jeep" escorted us to a parking space where we were greeted by several British combat bomber crew members.

We were taken to the clubhouse where "HIGH SPIRITS" were in hot demand. It appeared that every person in the bar demanded that he buy each of us a drink..........glass after glass became a milk shake glass filled with booze..........milkshake glass after milkshake glass continued.............to the dismal distress of a potted plant in the bar which was the recipient of the contents of the milkshalke glasses.

Then came dinner. We were served a hearty meal which include REAL EGGS. Apparently eggs were a real shortage in England and were served only to combat crews returning from a mission. (The American version of WWII eggs was a powdered version of a substance mentally described as a egg).......catsup useage received a huge boost during this period.

Later we were deposited at a billet for the night. All was well as the billet was a very comfortable place with good furnishings. The next morning we were a bit surprised to be watching a female service gal (Wren) ironing our uniforms & polishing our shoes.

Our many attempts to convince our American superiors to adopt the "in bed service" was never successful.
Frank Foster

Two Momentous Days
Two of the most momentous days of my entire life were Aug 6, 1944 and Mar 24, 1945. August 6, 1944 was my first mission, and Mar 24, 1945, was my 35th and last.

The story I'm about to relate happened on my last mission to a town called Hopsten in Germany. My job was to toggle the bombs, which I did successfully.

The flak was quite heavy over the target and after bombing we headed toward our base. The navigator had to relieve himself and he did so in his flak helmet. A short time later we ran into flak which was close......so close we could see the orange centers when the flak burst. The Navigator grabbed his helmet and put it on, and even the seriousness of the moment, was allayed by the look of this poor guy's appearence with urine running over his flak vest and flight suit. This, by the way, was his first mission and my last. I couldn't contain my laughter at his bedragled appearance.

He took it well, as he even gave me his whiskey ration when we got back to the base.
John Kearney

Dive Bombing in a B-17
There were times during our tour of duty when we managed to have some fun, even though it was not always approved by the field commander. I don't remember what date or time of year this was but it was a time of very bad weather in England in 1944.

We had prepared for a mission and had taken off with a full load of 500 pound bombs. After only a few of the Group's planes were airborn there was a mission recall. This meant that the mission was scrubbed, probably because of very bad weather over Germany. We were told via radio that we were to dispose of our bombs and return to our field.

Our Group's procedure for disposing of our bombs was to arm them and drop them in an area of the North Sea that cuts into the side of England known as "The Wash". The Wash was perhaps a hundred miles Northwest of Glatton airfield. The other primary rule for bomb disposal was to be sure that the visibility was good. We must also be out of site of land, and we were to drop our bombs only when we were sure no English fishing vessels or military boats were anywhere near the area.

We proceeded to the Wash only to find that there was a low thin cover of clouds whose top was perhaps 400 feet above the water and extending as far as we could see. There was never any thought of returning to the field with the bombs. Landing with a load of bombs and full gas tanks was too risky.
What to do?

We decided to go down to determine how low the cloud layer actually was. We made a slow instrument descent through the clouds. When we broke through at about 200 feet we found the visibility to be clear and we could readily see for a considerable distance over the water . A suggestion from our bombardier (Joel Lester) and with gleeful agreement from the rest of the crew, we decided that we would rise above the cloud layer, which was only a few hundred feet thick, arm a bomb, then dive down through the cloud layer, level off, observe that no ships were in the area, quickly release one bomb, pull up as quickly as possible and get as much distance between us and the bomb before it exploded.
We did not know how close we could be to an exploding 500 pound bomb without sustaining damage.

We first made a dry run or two before Joel finally armed one of the bombs. Then, down we went. We started at about 1000 ft altitude and dove down with engines at full throttle, broke through the clouds, "bombs away" came over the intercom from Joel, and up we went as fast as a B-17 could climb at full throttle. Just before we broke out of the cloud layer we heard the bomb explode with a loud 'WOOMMP'. Hearing the bomb explode surprised me since I had never experienced that before.

A check of the crew and the plane determined that there was no sign of damage and no one in the crew observed the bomb exploding through the clouds. We continued this bombing, one at a time, until we had exhausted our supply of bombs. Everyone seemed to enjoy this adventure and I kinda wished that we could do this with some of the Group's targets in Germany. Bad, bad, bad idea. This may be the only B-17 in the 8th Air Force to practice dive bombing.

As we returned to our home field there was much chatter on the intercom about the incident and the fun we had had dive bombing in a B-17G.
Willard (Hap) Reese


Isolation
After flying overseas from Kearney, Nebraska to England, we were assigned to a temporary facility near the "Wash" for about a week or more of training, mostly in aircraft identification. Then on to "Stone" to be assigned to a bomb group. We took a train to Peterborough and the standard GI truck from Peterborough to the 457th Bomb Group at Glatton.

Upon arrival at the 749th Squadron in May 1944, we immediately noticed something different from anything we had experienced before.......the men wore all types of outifits. Most wore A2 jackets as the outer cover. These A2 jackets were painted with all kinds of things......bombs on the front of jacket, and pictures of a airplanes or perhaps a girl on the back. We immediately felt a little out of place with our shiny new A2 jackets that had just been issued in Kearney Nebraska a couple weeks before.
As we got out of the truck we immediately noticed something even more unusual.......these veteran crews ignored us completely and went on about their business. There were no welcome shouts of "You won't like it here" or "You'll be sorry", that we experienced in the past at training fields when we first arrived. No one came over to see if they happened to know any of this new crew just arriving. Just nothing...... We were ignored. It was just as if we were invisible.

It did not take long for us to adjust and become just like the men that we had seen upon our arrival.
I was to spend 8 months in this squadron without knowing anyone who did not live in our quonset hut. The crew was everything, in our life. We worked with our crew and we played with our crew. No exceptions. Several other crews came to live in our hut along with us, but we stayed aloof from them. One crew came to our hut and was missing two days later. It simply did not pay to enlarge the friendship scene.

I flew 10 missions as a spare gunner with a different crew each mission. I did not learn a single name of any of them. I was told to report to a certain aircraft number and was given the pilots name after the briefing was over. Upon arrival at the aircraft and introducing myself, the pilot assigned me my gun position for the day. Never saw the crew before or after that mission.

I left the 457th on January 3, 1945 after having lived there for almost 8 months. When I left, there were three of my crew members still waiting to finish their missions. They were the only ones to wish me luck upon my departure. It was almost as a dream, I came in with a replacement crew and left alone. It was almost as if I had never been there.
Richard Gibbs

( side note from BS: a guy in my fathers group had a buddy in a bomber sq not too far away. so one afternoon they took a couple ac for "test rides" and landed at this bomber outfits base. my dad pretty much confirmed with that story was saying. it was far from the life on a fighter base. no one was friendly..no one made eye contact. he said it was like walking into a morgue...but couldnt blame them because they were constantly getting the crap kicked out of them. )

"Here's a different type of war story that I often tell but never bothered to write about:" - Murray Swerdlove

We got a week's R&R and went up to Edinborough, Scotland where we were able to stay with a delightful Scottish family whose name, I am ashamed to say escapes me. (At my age many names escape me!) We were treated royally and each night after we returned from "doing the pubs and the town" our host's two bonny daughters would bring us a platter of sandwiches for our midnight snack. With food so scarce, it was quite a sacrifice for them.

One highlight of our leave was a visit to a pub called The Green Parrot, where we had the best Scotch Whisky we ever had poured from an unlabeled bottle! While there a Mrs. Duncan dragged us into a small mini-bar and as a former American married to the Duncans of chocolate fame insisted, were given some very interesting alcoholic concotions.

Perhaps one of the warmest of memorable events of the entire war took place during our visit in Edinborough. When on leave away from our base in Glatton we were generally hungry as you were only allowed to get a meal costing no more than one pound and generally we would hunt up a Chinese restaurant as you got more food there. While on leave in Edinborough one day we took a taxi and asked the cabbie where we might be able to get a good meal. He drove us to a small fish and chips place called the Atlantic Cafeteria and ran in to speak to the manager. We hesitated to go is as we had hoped for a better choice of food. But he came out and told us to come with him, assuring us that we would be pleased with our meal.

We entered and were led by the proprietor back through the shop and down a flight of stairs to a lovely dining room where we were seated. No one came to bring any menu or take an order but after a bit a waiter came bearing plates of steak, potatoes and salad of highest quality and most generous portions. With no comment the waiter left. When we had finished this fine meal he came back with a great layer cake and coffee for dessert, again without us asking for it. We decided then that we were hooked into some black market operation and were waiting for the bill to come for this Lucullan feast. Finally the proprietor arrived and when we asked for the damages we paid just the one-pound as required. Unbelievable! We asked him how and why this was done and his answer was to the effect that you chaps came here and are fighting for us. We appreciate it more than you can imagine and it is our pleasure and honor to do this. He did add though, that we should come again but next time we'd have to settle for a chicken dinner!
Lovely folks, the Scotch!

Murray (Morris) Swerdlove - Bombardier
748th Squadron - Dave Summerville's Crew

[bobbysocks]

Dogfight over Vlissingen


This short story is taken from the upcoming book, "Finn Thorsager – fighter pilot in combat", written in Norwegian language. This piece has been translated into English for you all to (hopefully) enjoy.

The book is written based on the memoirs of the first Norwegian fighter pilot ever to be involved in combat.

This specific piece is based on Finn Thorsagers own combat report from a dogfight over Vlissingen in 1943 flying with 332 squadron. At this point during the war they were flying Spitfire MkIX.

The translators first language is not English and therefore the text might not be as good and correct grammatically as it should.


Finn sits in the cockpit and tries to think a little before they take off for the mission. It seems that the Germans isn't as eager to meet them in combat as before. It had been a little increase of activity this spring, and he clearly remembers the german he had shot down a few months ago. The enemy plane had spun down with a tail of fire behind it. After those missions it had gotten more quiet again. Just as much flying, but more the routine type of missions – escorting the Americans into France and then meeting up with them again on their way home.

The bombers keeps pounding the German industry. Maybe the decrease in german activity means that the bombing is working? He's not sure, but he hope he's right. Finn gets the feeling that the war now finally have turned around for the allies. Thoughts of survival starts to sneak up on him. In the start of it all, the idea of surviving seemed almost unreal to him. It now seems to be a fair chance he can get out of if alive. By each mission he puts down in his logbook, the more days go by. It's still important to keep the lads on their toes. It's dangerous if they get apathetic and isn't concentrating to their fullest when they're out flying. A pair of Focke Wulf 190 might suddenly attack out of the sun and send two-three Spitfires into the ground before the Norwegians even understands what happening. It has happened before, and it can happen again.

Finn pulls the hood over his head. He feels tired when he does it. The sound of the Rolls Royce Merlin engine reminds him that yet again he's going out with the Wing on a mission. Where's Red 2? There, Finn sees him straight ahead. He pulls the stick a little back and the throttle forward. The Spitfire happily respons to his orders. Finn gets himself in position behind Red 2. He's Red 3 today. Helge Mehre, the Wing Commander at North Weald, is leading 332 on this mission. They will act as support of bombers and fighters now coming out of Belgium. They've taken the route several times before. The formation looks to be tidy and the altimeter shows 14.000 feet. They continue to go upwards to 26.000. Summer has arrived a long time ago already. Much earlier than what Finn is used to from back home.

«Tally Ho, tally ho!» And observant and excited pilot reports 25 bandits about 10.000 feet below them. Mehre knows his stuff and leads the Wing even higher before he pulls them into a turn which puts them directly against the Germans from above. The enemy is there under them. Still in formation. If they don't see the Spitfires soon, they will be in for a big surprise when the combat-hungry Norwegians from North Weald comes down on them.

«Going down, now!» Wing Co. Mehre calls the boys up on the radio and Finn pushes his Spitfire downwards with Mehre leading. He tightens his grip on the stick and tries to keep up with the leading Spitfires. The ailerons gets heavier the faster the Spitfire dives. Finn is fully aware of it. It's one of the few little problems the Spitfire got. The faster it dives, the heavier it gets on the controls. Finn checks his refleksmessigst. It's on. Canons ready to fire as well. Everything in order. Where's Sandvik who is supposed to be covering him? Finn takes a short glimpse behind. The wingman is right where he should be. Good. This attack looks to be going very well. Finn stares at the formation of Germans straight ahead. Pick one of them! He lets his eyes scan the dots of airplanes. The one to the left seems to be the perfect target. Don't fire too soon, wait for the bandit to be close enough. Now!

The Spitfire shakes brutally from the firing canons but keeps flying dead ahead. Finn's target, a shiny, silver Fw 190, gets taken completely by surprise by the attack. It takes several hits from Finn's guns. Two black puffs of smoke emerges from the engine before it stops dead. Second later black smoke gushes out from it. Violently the Fw 190 flicks over to the left. Finn pulls hard on his stick to avoid crashing with the stricken enemy plane. His arms feels like led, the oxygen-mask lets go of his nose is pressed down from his face by the gravitational forces. Far down to the left the Fw 190 explodes in a giant ball of fire after Sandvik gives him a final salute from the boys from Norway.

Finn pulls his Spitfire on to its back and pulls down and to the right. Filth from the floor hits him in his face while he's upside down. Where's Sandvik? Not in his mirror? Not good, he should be there! The kid must have lost him when Finn pulled away from the German after his attack.

Something silverish in color passes Finn on his left side. Another 190! He rolls the Spitfire over and goes after the it. It's one-on-one now, no help from either of their wingmen!

The 190 keeps jumping around in his gunsight. Finn fires, but the deflection-shot misses it's target. The damn Hun is too far away! The 190 keeps diving towards the earth. Finn thinks for a fraction of a second before he decides to go after the lone enemy pilot. He keeps track of the plane ahead while he presses the Spitfire into a hell-rising dive. This is absolutely not the place to be for long. How many times have he told unexperienced pilots about how dangerous it is to be alone in the sky? Way too many times.

Now, where did the German go? He was ahead a second ago! Finn sees something a bit to the left of him. Something grey is coming straight at him! Finn just manages to fire his guns before the German passes him in terrific speed. He saw hits around the cockpit area just before the enemy plane disappeared. Now he's gone and Finn is alone. A really close shave. His altimeter shows 8000 feet. He's not staying here a second longer. The area is probably swarming with enemy planes and being alone he's no match for them.

Finn presses the throttle forward as far as it goes, and heads for the coast. It doesn't seem to be too far. He can't have flown as far east as he first thought he did.

Sandvik appears over the channel and waves his wings at Finn. He can see him sitting there, in his cockpit, showing Finn thumbs up. Finn lifts his hand and waves back at him. It feels numb and a little shaky. It had been quite a fight!

Safely back at North Weald they round up the numbers. It had been a good day. 13 shot down and no losses. In a couple of days the King and Crown Prince of Norway will arrive at North Weald. This would really be something to tell them!

With a cigarette hanging from his lips, Finn reports one 190 destroyed and one 190 damaged. He could easily have been sitting in a Belgian field right now, his ass covered with dirt and a parachute he's desperately trying to hide before the Germans arrive. He's been lucky. Lucky and skilled? He hopes it to be both.

from: http://www.spitfirepilots.com/

[bobbysocks]

adolf galland

Adolf Galland - Fighter General.
Written by Dariusz Tyminski .

Adolf Galland is probably the most known Luftwaffe pilot of WWII. Not because of number of his kills, but special kind of charisma , a characteristic for all great aces. He was the youngest general grade officer of either side in World War II, and at age 29, he was more competent in aerial combat, strategy and tactics than many of the experts nearly twice his age. As a fighter pilot he was credited with 104 aerial victories. He was also famous for making a lot of modifications to his Bf 109 fighters. He enhanced their fire power, installed better pilot armour and, a cockpit cigar lighter!

He was born in Westerholt, a small village in Westphalia on 19 March 1912. His father was an administrator of private lands and properties. Adolf was the second son, after Fritz. His younger brothers were Wilhelm and Paul. These two younger brothers followed Adolf into the Luftwaffe fighter forces. However they were not as lucky in combat. Paul (17 victories) was killed on 31 October 1943, mistakenly shot down by another pilot of JG26. Wilhelm (54 victories, Knight's Cross) was shot down a year later. Since childhood Adolf Galland was fascinated by aviation. He started building model aircraft when he was 12 years old. When he was 16, he began glider flights. In 1933 Galland realized a dream when he received his first pilot's license. During training in 1935, he crashed in a Focke-Wulf Fw-44 biplane and he was in a coma for three days. He had serious skull fractures, a broken nose, and a partially blinded left eye from glass fragments. His commander, Major Rheitel, an aviator from the First World War, assisted him during his recovery and getting back into flying. He returned to air duty, but a year later he crashed again, this time on Arado Ar-68. Galland again spent a lot of time in the hospital.

In 1937 he volunteered to go with a group of German pilots for service in the Spanish Civil War. In this group were other future aces like Hannes Trautloft, Wilhelm Balthasar, Günther Lützow, Eduard Neumann and Hajo Herrmann. They arrived in El Ferrol on 7 May 1937. Galland became a squadron leader in the Legion Fighter Group, equipped with Heinkel He-51 biplane fighters. Lützow led a squadron of the newest Messerschmitt Bf 109Bs. Galland entered action over Brunete in July 1937. He flew over 300 missions as a leader and he was awarded the Spanish Cross in Gold with Diamonds, only awarded 12 times in Spanish history. In 1938 he returned to Germany. Having great experience, was ordered to begin the organization of Luftwaffe ground attack units.

At the beginning of WW II, Galland flew in Poland in the Henschel Hs 123, until October 1, 1939, performing ground attack missions and proving the dive-bombing concept. For his efforts Galland was awarded by Iron Cross. Next, he was assigned to JG 27, commanded by Oberst Max Ibel. During the French campaign Adolf Galland scored his first kills on 12 May 1940, when he went with Gustav Rödel on a mission. Galland shot down two "Hurricanes" from 87th Squadron in two sorties. He had 12 victories by 9 June 1940.

When "Battle of Britain" started, Galland was assigned to JG26 Schlageter as Gruppenkommandeur of III/JG26. His debut in that unit was very successful: he shot down two fighters on his first mission. On 18 July 1940, he was promoted to Major and a month later (on 22 August) he received the Ritterkreuz (Knights Cross) after his 17th victory. During the "Battle of Britain" his score increased rapidly, and on 25 September he was decorated with the Oak Leaves (for 40 kills) by Hitler. Galland also succeeded Gotthard Handrick as Kommodore of JG26. On 1 November 1940, he scored his 50th victory and was promoted to Oberstleutnant (lieutenant colonel). One month later he became a full colonel.

Galland experienced being shot down himself on 21 June 1941, when JG26 was stationed at Pas de Calais. The Germans attacked Bristol "Blenheim" bombers and Galland downed two of them. However, some escorting "Spitfires" shot up his plane. He was forced to belly-land in a field. This same day, after lunch, he went on his next sortie. On that mission he shot down his number 70, but when following the burning "Spitfire", he was bounced and shot up badly. His plane caught fire, and he was wounded. He tried to bail out, but the canopy was jammed. After a dramatic struggle with the canopy, he was able to bail out at the last moment. His parachute opened just as he hit the ground. He was bleeding from his head and arm and he had damaged his ankle on landing. On 2 July 1941 Galland again was in trouble, but that is another story. Please check the text: Adolf Galland and the dramatic air combat July of 1941. On 9 August 1941 Galland 'welcomed' the famous Douglas Bader, who was just shot down by JG26 fighters.

At the end of 1941 Galland become General der Jagdflieger ("commander of fighter forces"), and went to Berlin. Gerhard Schoepfel became Kommodore of Galland's beloved JG26. On 28 January 1942, Hitler awarded him again, this time with the Brillanten (Diamonds). Galland still was at the rank of Colonel, but in 1942 he was promoted to General, then General Leutnant. He was enthusiastic about the new jet fighter project, and he gave great support to the Me 262 program. However, the protracted development time and Hitler's idea to turn the aircraft into a bomber "Schwalbe" slowed the entrance of this revolutionary fighter by a year.

In January of 1945 Galland and other officers (Lützow, Johannes, Steinhoff) had a notorious confrontation with Göring over the performance and future of the Fighter Arm. Galland was removed from his position and even arrested and threatened with a court-martial. Eventually he was allowed to organize a special jet unit using the Me 262. He created Jagdverband 44 a unit with most experienced pilots. His 'recruiting' officer, Steinhoff, traveled to all of the major bases, selecting pilots who wanted join to new adventure. Some very famous pilots joined over a period of weeks: Gerhard Barkhorn, Walter Krupinski, Heinz Bär , Erich Hohagen, Günther Lützow, Wilhelm Herget.

The newly organized unit flew several missions with varying success. Some aircraft used the anti-bomber R4M rockets. During his first attack with rockets Galland, with Walter Krupinski as a wingman, attacked a group of American B-26 "Marauders". Galland's rocket attack knocked down two of them.

In his last aerial combat in WWII, Adolf Galland took off on 26 April 1945. During an attack against Marauders his rockets would not fire, so he had use the 30 mm cannons. His Me 262 was hit by return fire from a rear gunner. The Allied bomber withstood Galland's fire. When Galland turned to finish the bomber, he was surprised by a P-47D flown by James Finnegan. Shells from the P-47's eight 12,7 mm guns destroyed Galland's instrument panel, shattered the jet's canopy, and struck his right knee. With his plane losing power and in great pain, Galland returned to his base, arriving just at the moment when a strafing attack by enemy fighters was underway. He successfully landed and escaped the wreck of his Me 262, avoiding the fire of the straffing attackers.

After war Galland was invited by Juan Perón to help build Argentinian Air Forces. Here he established a training and operations school, developed tactical training program. In 1955 he returned to Germany. Adolf Galland, a holder of the Knight's Cross with Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds, died in 1996.

Adolf Galland and the dramatic air combat July of 1941.
Written by Christer Bergström .

The short biography of Adolf Galland is described in story: Adolf Galland - Fighter General. . Here I decided to describe a small, but very dramatic episode dated July 2nd, 1941. This day JG 26 "Schlageter" spotted probably Polish fighters from 308th "City of Krakow" Squadron under command of Cpt. Marian Pisarek (details from Polish side on Pisarek's page!). Polish pilots claimed 5 destroyed "Messers'", but Germans from JG 26 lost at least 2 Bf 109s. One of them, piloted by Oberleutnant Martin Rysavy (8 kills) of 2./JG 26, was reportedly shot down by "friendly Flak". Rysavy was killed. But probably 308th Squadron can add him to score board.

On this day, Oberleutnant Josef "Pips" Priller (who at that time served as Staffelkapitän 1./JG 26) shot down his 29th enemy.

The Geschwaderkommodore Oberstleutnant Adolf Galland took off, despite wounds he had received when he was shot down on 21 June, and despite the fact that he had received orders that forbade him to take part in air combat since he was decorated with the Swords to the Knight´s Cross with Oak Leaves. He led the whole JG 26 in an attack against the formation of "Blenheim's" and escort fighters - probably of 308th Squadron, they just covered that bombers... Galland shot down one "Blenheim" (it was not confirmed, because he didn´t see the crash). As he was involved in a whirling dogfight with one "Spitfire", another "Spitfire" attacked his Bf 109F from behind.

The cockpit hub of Galland´s plane was hit by a 20 mm shell. But the armor plate which Galland´s mechanic Unteroffizier Meyer coincidentally had mounted on the Kommodore´s aircraft that same morning, saved Galland´s life. Adolf Galland managed to escape and landed at base, where he was hospitalized again - for the second time in twelve days. As a reward, he paid Uffz. Meyer 100 Mark.

"So viel war mein Kopf wert (so much was my head worth)...", Galland ironically commented later.

On the following day, 3 July 1941, one of the greatest German fighter aces on the "Channel Front" was killed: During aerial combat near Aire, the Geschwaderkommodore of JG 2 "Richthofen", Major Wilhelm Balthasar, was killed when one wing broke off his Bf 109. Balthasar had achieved a total of 40 victories in WW II and 7 in Spain. Only on the previous day, he was awarded the Oak Leaves to the Knight´s Cross.

During July 1941, the RAF reported that they lost 75 bombers and 120 fighters in daylight missions over the "Channel". According to German reports, JG 2 and JG 26 lost 77 fighters on the "Channel front" during the period 22 June - 31 October 1941.

One of the most successful pilots in JG 26 during the summer of 1941 was Hauptmann Johann Schmid of 8./JG 26. On 7 August 1941, he achieved his victories Nos. 11-13. On 9 August he achieved another three victories (Nos. 14-16). On 10 August, he shot down three RAF aircraft in three minutes time. On both 12 and 19 August he shot down another three RAF aircraft on each day. On 21 August he was appointed Staffelkapitän 8./JG 26 and was awarded the Knight´s Cross. During the following two months, he downed another 20 RAF planes. On 6 Nov 1941, he crashed into the Channel as he was following a Spitfire, and got killed. During the same period, Adolf Galland shot down 21 "Spitfires", 3 "Blenheims" and 1 "Hurricane".

JG 26 claimed more than 900 victories from 1939 to 31 Dec 1941 (including 400 since 1 May 1941), and lost 95 pilots killed and 34 POW during the same period (including 61 pilots killed or POW since 1 May 1941). Most successful pilots of JG 26 on 31 Dec 1941 were: Galland (94 victories), Hptm Müncheberg (62) and Hptm Josef "Pips" Priller (5.

Additional note.

On 21 June 1941, Galland was shoot down twice. At 12:30 JG 26 took off against Blenheims from 21 Sq RAF, covered by famous Polish 303 Fighter Squadron, flying as a part Circus 17 operation . After successful attack on Blenheims (1 confirmed kill) "Dolfo" fell under guns of young and not so experienced Polish pilot, P/O Boleslaw Drobinski. The right wing and cooling system Bf 109 F-2 WNr 5776 was heavily damaged, and German famous ace was forced to immediately belly landing. So, it looks that Galland experienced really bedluck, fighting against Polish fighter pilots... This same day, few hours later, commander of JG 26 was shot down by Sgt Grant from 145 Squadron RAF.

[bobbysocks]

Marian Pisarek - one of most effective Polish aces.
Written by Dariusz Tyminski .

Marian Pisarek belonged to the most experienced group of Polish fighter pilots. In 1939, he was a Second Commander of 141st Fighter Squadron (and flew P-11c's). On September 1st, 1939, he shot down a German Hs 126 (after some sources this kill was shared with Stanislaw Skalski ). On the next day, he took part in a tragic attack on a German armored column, where a few pilots were killed. This same day, in the evening, Pisarek downed - by mistake - a Polish recon-bomber, a P-23 "Karas" (which looked very similar to a Ju 87). On September 4th, there was no mistake, he killed personally one Ju 87.

After receiving evacuation orders, he moved through Romania to France. Here, Pisarek came into the newly organised kpt. Tadeusz Rolski Squadron, but this unit was not combat ready till the end of the war in France. After France's capitulation, the Polish aviators, who had been at Gaillac Airfield, took French Caudron Goeland aircraft and flew to Oran. They next, by way of Casablanca, arrived in Great Britain.

After August 2nd, Lt. Marian Pisarek was a member of the 303rd "Kosciuszko" Squadron. He took part in the Battle of Britain. On September 7th, 1940, at 16:35, he started a sortie, with all 11 aircraft in his squadron, to catch a German bomber group. A Quarter of an hour later, the air combat began. The Polish fighters scored 14 confirmed victories (12 Do 215's and 2 Bf 109's) and 4 others, that were probably 2 additional Do 215's and 2 more Bf 109's. But unfortunately Pisarek, after shooting down one Bf 109, had to bail out in his parachute, and Second Lieutenant Kaszewski was gravely injured.

Mr Dennis Barnes, who was a witness of that epizode, remembers:

"During the battle of britian in 1940 I was a young lad living in Loughton in Essex close to London. On the afternoon of Sept 7th a great air battle was in progress above us. at about 4.56 pm a plane crashed not far away from us, and very soon after my mother, 2 sisters and I observed a parachutist who appeared to be coming to land at the end of our long back garden. Thinking it must be a german, I went into the house to get my father's 12 bore shotgun. Just then, much to my disappointment, or (relief) a gust of wind caught the chute and it was taken over some houses and into a field. A pilot who have bailed out of his hurricane after trying (typically) to steer it away from the houses and into a field was captain Marian Pisarek.

He had infact almost suceeded in doing this, but unfortunately the aircraft crashed in the garden of a house next to the field and killed 3civil defence personnel in an air raid shelter there. Pilot who landed in that field was given a rather rough handling.first by the local defence volenteers who thought he was a german and the aircraft that had crashed was german. Marian who i think could speak little english at that time was able to remove part of his flying overall and show the 'Poland' flashes on his uniform tunic to them. There were then frofuse apologies all round and i understand that soon after that the pilots of 303 squadron at Northolt were invited to a dinner at the Loughton town hall by the mayor in order to make ammends for this mistakes!

So I dont get to meet this great ace personally. After all I did get to meet his 303 Squadron pal. Canadian ace John Kent 12 years later as Wing Commander Kent DFC when I was introduce to him as a young airman at the end of the war, I was also able to sit in the cockpit of Douglas Baders personal Spitfire as an air cadet when he was the co at Northweald. i still remenber his mascot (a Scottish kilted doll) hanging from the windscreen.years later, I got to meet and speak to him when he came to British Airways h.q. to give a lecture to raes.the subject was 'THE BIG WINGS IN THE BATTLE OF BRITIAN'.

3 years ago i did visit the crash site of Hurricane R4173 at 40 Roding Rd Loughton. The owner told me that the site was excavated by an A/C PRESAVATION SOCIETY 4 years previously the engine had gone down deep. Even after all this time corroded .303 mg rounds are still found and he had to give up using a rotivator to till the soil as it was too dangerous still..."

(The autor of this recollection, Mr Barnes, in1945 joined 12 f squadron ATC attached RAF Northweald. In 1949 he joined RAF and became an engineer. After this he joined BOAC as an engineer staying till retirement in 1991. As a member of British Airways flying club and later Booker Gliding CLUB his favorite pastime was flying sailplanes. He had now been living in Malasia with his wife for the last 8 years. He still had an interest in the RMAF museum at Kuala Lumpur.)

Another very busy day for the 303rd Squadron was the 15th of September, 1940. Polish fighter pilots took part in two hard and great air battles, where they achieved 16 confirmed kills. Pisarek led a section with wingmen Sgt. Brzezowski and Sgt. Josef Frantisek (the later of the two a Czech pilot). Pisarek's victim, this day, was again one Bf 109.

On June 23rd, 1941, Captain Marian Pisarek was ordered to command the Polish 308th "City of Krakow" Squadron. The squadrons code letters were "ZF". Flight leaders were, at that time, Lt. Stefan Janus ("A" flight), and Lt. Erwin Kawnik ("B" flight). On June 27th, 1941, Polish fighters claimed 4 destroyed Bf 109's, one of them was by Pisarek. On that day, JG 26 only reported 2 Bf 109's destroyed and one damaged. In 4/JG 26, Unteroffizier Otto Friedrich was killed.

On July 2nd, 1941, the squadron escorted 12 "Blenheim's" on a mission to attack the electric facility at Lille. During the return, they were attacked by a big group, about 60, of German fighters from JG 26. The Polish fighters claimed 5 Bf 109's (one of them again personally by Pisarek) destroyed, 2 probables, and one damaged. But, in the battle 2 "Spitfires" crashed. Lt. Erwin Kawnik was killed, and Sgt. Pawel Kowala became a prisoner of war. Sec. Lt. Budrewicz luckily returned to the airfield with a heavily damaged aircraft. JG 26 lost, at least, 2 Bf 109's. One of them was piloted by Oberleutnant Martin Rysavy (who had 8 kills) from 2/JG 26. Also, in that battle, a Messerschmitt belonging to Adolf Galland (more details on German Ace page) was heavily damaged.

On July 17th, 1941, the 308th Squdron, under command of Captain Pisarek, was ordered to a recon flight over France, in the Bolougne-Calais area. A dozen Polish "Spitfire's" were attacked by a big group of Bf 109's. The leader decided to make a defence circle (ring) of fighters, were each plane covered an aircraft before it. The formation all slowly rotated to the Channel direction. The Germans, sure of their advantage, furiously attacked. The Polish formation defended itself well. Sec. Lt. Witold Retinger downed one Bf 109, next was one destroyed by Capt. Pisarek and Sec. Lt. Taeusz Schiele. During that battle, Sec. Lt. Tadeusz Hegenbarth was killed, and Sec. Ltn. Maciejewski had to parachute and was taken prisoner of war. On the German side, Unteroffizier Gerhard Oemler, of 9./JG 26, was killed.

On July 22nd, 1941, over German airfields in the area of St. Omer, Polish fighters had a lot of combat with Messerschmitts at low altitude. They scored 4 victories (one by Pisarek). Unfortunatelly, 2 pilots were killed -Sec. Lt. Wladyslaw Bozek and Sec. Lt. Miroslaw Orzechowski.

On 14 August 1941 Pisarek claimed a Bf 109F as destroyed. Here is his official combat report:

"Leading 308 (polish) Squadron N.W. of St. Omer, I saw 30-35 Me. 109E's & F's flying in formation at about 15,000 ft, above them and ahead. I ordered 308 and 315 Squadrons to attack, and 306 to give cover. The two Squadrons attacking, dived on the enemies out of the sun.

I attacked a Me. 109F firing three short bursts. After the third burst the enemy machine cought fire, and pieces fall off. It dived vertically towards the ground and disappeard in cloud. I attacked it from above and astern, firing the first burst from about 200 yds, and closing to about 50 yds.

My No. 2 (P/O Budzalek) saw this Me, dived vertically in flames. I claim this Me. 109F as destroyed"

In September 1941 Squadron 308 flew few dangerous Circus operations, and Pisarek added new kills for his score.

His combat report from 20 September 1941 describes dramatic dogfight: "On the way back to the Channel flying at 20,000 ft. I was leading the Squadron - the whole formation was retiring. I saw an Me. attacking P/O Zbierzchowski from close range - He was flying in my group of four. I warned Zbierzchowski to turn to the left - As he did so, I approached the Me. giving 5 short bursts from 100 yds, closing to 50 yds, from behind, to port, and above - The Me. broke away sharply - Later the same Me. attacked me from above and a dog fight ensued - I lost height in tight turns, and then suddenly shot up so that the Me., overshot me and found itself below me. I then got on his tail, and putting my nose down gave a long burstfrom 50 yds. The e/a belchced smoke and getting into a steep dive, plunged into Channel. I was then at 3000 feet. I claim this Me.109F as destroyed."

Next day - next combat (21 September 1941): "Circus 104. I was leading 308 Sqdn. which was supposed to be middle Sqdn. of the Northolt Wing. As I could not see any of our a/c above, I decided to increase height to 30,000 ft. After crossing the French Coast south of Le Touqet, I saw at the same altitude 8 Me.'s ahead and to port and 7 ahead and to starboard.

I gave order to attack the 7 that were closest. A number of dog-fights started. I attacked an Me. 109F from astern on the port side, but could not get close enough to fire - as a result of numerous dog-fights we found ourselves over Channel, and the Me.'s vanished.

I reformed the Sqdn. and once more flew into France. And we were again engaged by a group of eight or more Me.'s, probably the same we had previously seen on our port side - I attacked an Me. 109F from astern, the first burst was from 250 yds. I kept on his tail getting closer and from 200 yds. gave a second longer burst, and then a third burst from 150 yds. The me. started to smoke, I got to within 100 yds., and gave another burst, flames appeard, the E/A turned on it's back and went into a spin, with clouds of smoke and flames pouring out. As I saw three other E/A above me, and had no more ammunition, besides which my R/T was u/s, I dived down and flying low, returned to base"

Pisarek got his last kill, Bf 109, on 13 October 1941.

On December 10th, 1941, Capt. Marian Pisarek ended his tour of battle duty, and the new 308th Squadron Leader, Capt. Marian Wesolowski arrived. The 308th Squdron achieved, in 1941, mostly under Pisarek's command, the highest number of victories in all the Polish Air Forces: 52 confirmed victories, 10 probables, and 13 damaged enemy planes.

After April 19th, 1942, Major Marian Pisarek received command of the 1st Polish Fighter Wing (303rd, 316th, and 317th Squadrons). Ten days later, the wing had a fighter sweep in the Hardelot-Desrves-Marck area. Over Le Treport (other sources say Le Touquet or Bologne) the wing was surprised by an attack by 15 FW 190's. This strike hit the 317th Squadron. They lost, unfortunately, the Squadron Leader; Capt. Piotr Ozyra, and Wing Commander Major Marian Pisarek. The Germans, after rapidly attacking, disengaged from the battle. 303rd Squdron simply did not manage to enter into this combat. Pisarek was probably shot down by the famous German ace, Commander of the II/JG 26, Htpm. Joachim Muncheberg , or Obfw. H. Hoffman from the 4./JG 26.

Major Pisarek is ranked in 7th position on the list of best Polish aces, with a record of 12 confirmed, 1 probable, and 2 demaged enemy aircraft.

[bobbysocks]

December, 1945
Statement of George R. Derdzinski
Navigator 1034
457th Bomb Group
751 Bomb Squadron

On May 28, 1944, 24th Mission, my crew, consisting of:
Pilot - Lt. Clyde Knipfer
Co-Pilot - Lt. Richard A. Bruha
Bombardier - Lt. Stanley V. Gray
Navigator - Myself................
and 5 other members were assigned to No. 5 position in the high box of our wing. The target was the airdrome at Dessau, Germany. The weather was perfect; visibility unlimited. The wing was rather spread out due to poor timing on assembly. We observed slight ineffective flak over the French coast on our way in.

After that, the mission was routine and uneventful until we entered Germany proper. At that time our fighter escort chancel reported heavy enemy fighter concentrations ahead. Within a half hour, we observed enemy fighter attacks directed at groups head of us. At approximately the Initial Point, which was 8 minutes from the target, our formation was attacked by a heavy concentration of ME-109's, FW-190's, and JU-88's. They came in at 3 O'clock level, in group formation in what can best be described as an entire formation attacking on a pursuit curve. This was the first time we had observed such tactics in our 24 missions. Needless to say they came in with their "lights blinking" (editors note - meaning, wing guns firing) and we returned the compliment.

The ship to our right was hit and smoke poured out of one of the engines, though there was no visible fire. A split second later, our left wing was hit and set afire. Our fighter escort which was too spread out to cope with the unorthodox enemy concentration was rather ineffective up to this time.
As soon as we were hit we left the formation and the pilot gave the bail out alarm and contacted all 9 crew members for confirmation, after which the pilot, the bombardier and the engineer bailed out at approximately 18,000 feet. The plane maintained perfect flight with the left wing still burning. When I prepared to leave the nose, I was surprised to see the co-pilot was still in the cockpit. After a damn short discussion, we decided to try for Switzerland (for all practical purposes Switzerland and Sweden were equi-distant, we chose Switzerland because the winds were more favorable for a southern course.)

At this point there were six crew members still in the ship. When the co-pilot made our plan known to the rest of the crew, three members, the tail-gunner, waist gunner and radio operator decided to bail out. The co-pilot, ball turret gunner and I, continued on course unmolested to Switzerland (at 18 thousand feet) with the wing fire showing signs of dying out. Then it became larger again. Finally, with the flame beginning to warm the seat of the ball turret gunner's pants and when gas fumes were evident throughout the ship, the three remaining crew members hit the silk (18 thousand feet) in the vicinity of Fulda, Germany.

On my way down I observed light flak, the first since we had left formation, directed at our ship, which was flying lazy circles on automatic pilot. I landed in a pasture, hid my parachute and made for a nearby woods. About 15 minutes later as I ran I heard voices, gun fire and soon the forest was alive with German civilians and soldiers. I hid in a ditch only to be discovered by a German soldier of the Luftwaffe.

I was immediately marched to a small town just east of Fulda and ushered into the Burgermeister's office. There I saw my co-pilot but we did not recognize each other. The town people came into the office one by one to pass their individual comments and returned to the street until quite a congregation had gathered. A few minutes later, the ball turret gunner, Sgt. Nicholas D. Furrie, appeared with an "escort". Sometime later (we bailed out at about 12:30 PM) the German army or rather a Lieutenant and 6 enlisted men came to claim us. They took us by truck to a quartermaster camp in the city of Fulda. At this point, Lt. Richard Bruha and myself were placed in a cell with a Lt. Kieley, who flew with another group in our wing. We spent two days at this location with intermittent individual interviews by a German officer. There was damn little food. Early one morning we were marched to the railroad station (Lt. Kieley had to be given assistance because of a sprained ankle.)

When the train finally arrived we were crowded into it. We arrived at Du-Lag Luft near Frankfort late that night. We went thru the usual routine there; solitary confinement and persuasive but ineffective interrogation by a German major. After two days, I was shipped along with some 50 other prisoners to an outdoor camp, the name of which I forget, where we received our issue of Red Cross clothing and our first shower and shave since we went down. After some 7 to 10 days, we were finally sent to the permanent camp at Stalag Luft III at Sagan, Germany.

There we found a rather well organized (under the circumstances) group in the west compound commanded by Col. Daar H. Alkire. I was assigned to block 169 where we lived 15 men to a room (there until Jan. 1945).
At that time the Russian advance was in full swing and they were threatening Breslau. We were marched out at 1 AM on a Sunday morning after approximately two hours notice by the German commander. The temperature was below zero and there was a heavy snow on the ground. We were issued a Red Cross parcel each as we left the gate. The entire camp marched to Spremberg, Germany. I don't remember how long it took. The weather was severe, our clothing inadequate, and many of the men including myself suffered from frozen feet and fatigue. The German guards, most of whom were quite old, did little better, As a matter of fact two of them died on this march. Although I had heard of rumors of loss of American prisoners, I do not positively know of any myself.

At Spremberg we were loaded 50 men to a car on the original 40 and 8 cards of the first world war. Some days later we arrived at Nurnberg for a 1 month stay which can best be described as a nightmare. The prison camp was located within 3 miles of the railroad yards, the primary target for our bombers at Nurnberg. The food situation was appalling; even the German soldiers did not get enough to eat. There was no Red Cross food and the railroad yards were bombed nightly and daily by our own Eighth Air Force and the R.A.F. respectively.

At about this time, Red Cross representatives made an appearance at the camp and informed us that our Government had consigned 50 white U.S. Army trucks to the Swiss Government for the purpose of supplying Red Cross food to us. Two weeks later, after his visit, the first Red Cross truck appeared. From that time on we were put on half ration of Red Cross food.

This camp was filthy and crawling with bugs. We were well satisfied upon receipt of a day's notice that we would march toward the Swiss border. It was early in April that the march began and by this time Col. Alkire was issuing orders to the German commander. The weather was warm, the white trucks supplied our food, and we were not required to march more than 8 hours in a single day. It was quite different than the march of the previous winter. After approximately two weeks on the road, we arrived at Moosburg, where we found the camp dirty and full of bugs but adequate food though never plentiful.

On May 28, 1945, early in the morning, we received the first indication that our liberation was in the offing. The German commander officially turned the entire camp over to our Senior officers. At noon, as two P-51's gave us quite an air show at low altitude, we observed an American tank followed by more coming over a not too distant hill. Although there was some scattered fire in the camp itself, the opposition to the 14th Armored Division, our liberators, was negligible.
A half hour later the American flag went up over the town of Moosburg. Later that same day, other Third Army units moved in. About a week later we were flown to Paris, from there to La Havre (a month stay in Le Havre) and then Home via Camp Kilmer, N.J.

After a 90 day leave I received my certificate of service at the AAFPDC, San Antonio, Texas. My terminal leave was completed on Dec, 12, 1945. At the time of separation I had been in grade as a 2nd. Lt. for 26 months.
George R. Derdzinski 

[bobbysocks]

Eyewitness...

On a mission to Merseberg (No 146) on Nov 8th, 1944, two planes of the 457th mysteriously collided while in formation. One of the planes was s/n 42-38064 named "Arf & Arf" piloted by Lt Arnet L Furr. The other plane involved in the collision was s/n 44-8418 named "Bad Time Inc II". The pilot of Bad Times Inc II was James Elduff. The copilot of "Bad Times Inc II" was Lt James Jenkins, Jr.

The official account says that "Arf & Arf" was cut in two by "Bad Time Inc II". The two portions of "Arf & Arf" spiraled into the sea with no survivors. "Bad Time Inc", while badly damaged, was able to return to base and flew again only to crash land in Belgium while on a mission to Euskirchen several months later

In the June 1991 issue of the Association Newsletter is a letter written to the Association by George Crockett regarding this incident. It is published here in it's entirety.

"Reading Lt Jenkins (Copilot on "Bad Time Inc.) article in a previous issue of the Newsletter brought back many vivid, but sad memories. I remember sitting across from Warren Rankin and Leroy Wetzel at breakfast on the morning of Nov 8th, 1944. It was to be the last time we would eat together or see one another. Our mission was to be the Luena synthetic oil plant at Merseberg. Fourteen of our planes were assigned to it. We had already crossed the channel when we were recalled due to bad weather.

As we were returning over the coast, we were met with a "flak" barrage and flew through it without any apparent damage. We were flying above and to the left of Lt Elduff. I was the right waist gunner on Joe Coleman's crew "Rattle Snake Daddy". Lt. Furr's, "Arf & Arf" was to the right and below Lt Elduff's "Bad Time Inc.". As I looked down on Furr's plane, I waved to their left waist gunner, and he waved back. As I watched, they started edging closer and were climbing closer to our level. At the time I thought they were just tightening the formation but they suddenly climbed up and under Lt. Elduff and hit him. The next thing I saw was "Arf & Arf" in two parts plumeting towards the water.

Contrary to the account in Col. Byers "Flak Dodger", one chute did open. We were instructed to 'hold position'. Joe (our pilot) said "To hell with you, I'm going down" and we went. We were going to try and drop a raft. We made two passes about 30 feet off the water and managed to drop a raft near him, thanks to Tom Crowley (our bombardier) who was calling the shots. The man in the water was Glen Wisdom. He made it to the raft and waved. We thought he had been saved but could not get any information on him. As we left the area, there was a swarm of fighters circling over him and the "flak" started up again trying to reach them.

It was hard to return to our hut and find their bunks empty and their personal effects gone. A lot of us cried to ourselves that night. We were given a 48 hour leave and found ourselves drowning our sorrows in London. When we got back, there was a new crew in their bunks and business went on as usual. There were two other survivors from that crew. Ed Rambler had left the crew a month before and Sgt Ramoe went to the hospital with severe abdominal pains the night before. He was replaced by Sgt Brunsvold, flight engineer. Joe must have caught "hell" for doing what he did but I thought he deserved a medal."

Explosion in Mid-Air

In the Honor Roll section of the Archives there is the following paragraph about the loss of Aircraft #42-97088 and the crew of Lt Jack W. Gazzale:
Plane s/n 42-97088 was forming up in formation over England when it's wing tip appeared to burst into flame. Several of the crew bailed out and shortly thereafter the plane exploded. The pilot, Lt Jack W. Gazzale, was blown clear of the plane and parachuted to the earth as did five other members of his crew. Three of the crew were killed in the explosion and Lt Fred Oglesby lost his leg from an injury."


Two weeks ago I happened to converse with Jack Gazzale (the first time ever) and he has given me a more detailed account of what happened on that fateful day. He wrote down his memory of this event some years ago and has kindly given me permission to post it here. The following is an account of that mission and what he and his crew experienced:
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On July 11th, 1944 we were just forming up on a mission to Munich, the fourth largest city in Germany. Our target was to be a jet aircraft plant located in the city and over 1200 heavy bombers were dispatched to the target. This was the Group's 86th mission and my 11th mission.
Our crew was made up of me, Jack W. Gazzale (Pilot), Jim Philips (Copilot), Fred Oglesby (Navigator), Ralph Hipsman (Engineer), Everett Broadie (Nose Gunner), his brother Robert Broadie (Tail Gunner), Bob Ehlert (Ball Turret Gunner), Burt Chenkin (Radioman), and William Becker (Waist Gunner).

At approximately 0930 and about one hour after takeoff and still forming up over England, the crew began to smell fuel. Suddenly the left wing was engulfed in flames and exploded, sending the aircraft into a severe spin preventing anyone from moving to an exit.Seconds later the main fuel tanks and possibly the bomb load exploded and the aircraft disintegrated. I was blown from the plane still strapped in my seat and Oglesby and Evertt Broadie (in the nose) were ejected through the nose section, severing Oglesby's left leg. Oglesby related that, as he fell toward earth unconscious, he became aware of something slapping him in the face and it was his boot and the severed leg. He pulled the ripcord and noticed his blood soaked parachute deploy before passing out again.
Witnesses on the ground reported seeing me plummeting toward the ground still strapped into my seat and at the last possible moment, unbuckling my seatbelt and pulling the ripcord. I received only minor injuries, but the trauma of injury and lost crew members was devastating.

Oglesby, bleeding profusely from his severe injury, was in a way, lucky. He landed in a tree beside the road just as an ambulance and crew came by on their way to a hospital with plasma. They and some farmers immediately removed Fred from the tree and applied emergency first aid, although they were unable to save his leg, he did survive and died only last year. Jim Phillips, Ralph Hipsman and Everett Broadie were lost in this crash.

The debris covered a five mile long path with an engine at the beginning and the largest piece, the tail section, at the other. Some debris fell on a B-24 base, causing a departing B-24 to abort it's takeoff after being hit by some of the debris.

Fred Oglesby and I are Colonels in the Confederate Air Force and I have the distinction of being a charter member of the High Sky Wing. Oglesby was a member of the Arizona Wing, which operates the B-17 "Sentimental Journey", whose markings are those of the 457th Bomb Group.

[bobbysocks]

Major Raymond Syptak

The sixth of June, 1994, was the 50th anniversary of the greatest event that occurred in World War ll, and perhaps the event which the success, or lack thereof, would change the course of civilization for years to come.

This event, referred to as "D" Day, was the beginning of the invasion of Western Europe by Allied forces to free the Western European countries from the control of Nazi Germany, and which led to the ultimate defeat of that country.

The 50th anniversary of that event was celebrated by the Allied participants, in the area in which it occurred, which was Normandy, France. Many participants who survived the landings and subsequent battles gave their accounts of the invasion. These accounts were interesting and informative, and received world wide news coverage. D-Day occurred almost mid-way in my combat tour in England, flying bombing missions in B-17s over continental Europe. It occurred to me that perhaps a resume of my experiences during that tour might be of interest to my descendants and others.

To give the proper perspective, I must go back far enough to show how it came about that I was in that particular situation at that particular time.

It goes way back to my decision to go to Texas A&M. This was in 1937. At that time, A&M was a college for men only and participation in the Army Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC) was mandatory for all able-bodied students. The ROTC program had several military specialities, one of which had to be selected upon entry. There was the Infantry, Field Artillery, Cavalry, and others. I knew nothing of any of them, but my good brother-in-law, John B.Woiton, had finished A&M, and he advised me to take the Infantry.

The first two years of ROTC training was mandatory for all. At the beginning of the Junior year, it became optional. To continue in the ROTC required the approval of the Army staff at the college. If approved, you entered into a contract with the Army. One reason for my desire for continuation in the program was monetary. We were paid the grand amount of 25 cents a day. While that was not much, over the period of two years it just about paid for the required uniform. By completing the additional two years, and upon graduation, you became a Second Lieutenant in the Army Reserve.

I realized after experiencing some of the training that there were more desirable specialities in the Army then the Infantry. The Infantrymen were called "Paddle Feet". They were the ones who carried the rifles and did all of the walking and close-in fighting in battles.

A few weeks before graduation, a notice was posted on the bulletin board, stating that students majoring in certain subjects, mine being one, could request transfer to the Army Air Corps, non-rated. At that time, I didn't know what "non-rated" meant, but this seemed to be a great opportunity to leave the Infantry. So I applied for transfer.

The time was now the early part of 1941, and Hitler had already taken over a lot of Europe. Also, it had been announced that all ROTC graduates would go on active duty for one year upon graduation. My duty station was to be Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, where I reported on June 20, 1941 after graduating. After a couple of weeks of some rugged Infantry training, lo and behold, my transfer to the Army Air Corps came through, and I was to report to McClelland Field, in Sacramento, California. I immediately called my dear wife, Vera Mae, who was still working for the Agricultural Adjustment Administration in College Station. I told her to terminate her employment, and I would pick her up and we would be going to California to live.

While still at Fort Sam Houston, I remember listening to the radio, and the program was interrupted with the announcement that Germany had invaded the Soviet Union. Since Germany had been so successful in the past by taking over one country after the other in a very short period of time, seemingly invincible, and since the Soviet Union had had difficulty in taking little Finland, this was very bad news. If Russia (Soviet Union) were to fall, it meant Hitler would control all of Europe, except Great Britain. At that time, Britain was being pounded by German bombers. l thought if the Soviets fell, the British would probably give up. Things did not look very good.

In the next few months, Germany marched through Poland and Russia,and seemed to have little opposition. The German army was approaching Moscow and Leningrad (now St. Petersburg).

After a few pleasant months at McClelland Field, Pear1 Harbor, was attacked by bombers from aircraft carriers of Imperial Japan. This was on a Sunday morning, December 7, 1941. We lived in a house in North Sacramento. That morning I went to the drug store to get a newspaper. While in the store, the announcement of the attack came over the radio in the store. I went back to the house, and received a call to report to the base immediately. All officers were issued pistols to be worn at all times. This base, like all others, went on a war time alert. All leaves were cancelled and a seven day work week was put into effect.

As I previously said, I was non-rated, which meant that I was not a pilot, navigator, or any other aircraft crew speciality. After becoming acquainted with the pilots on the base, I started considering the possibility of applying for pilot training. As a non-flying Air Corps officer, there was no possibility of participating in any combat. It, like the Quartermaster Corps, was one of the best assignments to survive the war. However,like many others, I was interested in doing all that I could to insure victory for the United States. So I thought I should apply.

Physical examinations for pilot training were tough; however, l thought I could qualify, so I applied for pilot training and was accepted. Vera Mae, our nine month old son, Michael, and I reported to Santa Ana, California, for pre-flight pilot training in November, 1942. There were literally thousands of aviation cadets there, all with dreams of becoming pilots, navigators, or bombardiers. After six weeks of preflight training, I was transferred to Fort Stockton, Texas, for primary pilot training in the Stearman (PT17) aircraft. This was a bi-wing, open cockpit trainer. The instructors were all civilians.

The first ride in the airplane with the instructor was my second flight in an airplane. After about seven hours of training, I was allowed to solo. I passed the various check rides and finished the course with a total of sixty hours. Approximately one-half of the class washed out (were eliminated). Then to basic training at Pecos, Texas, in a single engine, low wing trainer, referred to by some as the "Vultee Vibrator". After another seventy hours or so, I finished this course successfully and was transferred to Marfa, Texas for advanced training in a twin-engine trainer, the AT-17. Upon graduation from pilot training, and receiving my pilot's wings, I was transferred to Moses Lake, Washington, for my first encounter with the B-17 bomber, the Flying Fortress. This was in August, 1943.

At this base, B-17 crews were formed and trained for eventual assignment to tactical units. After getting a crew, and, in retrospect, some sorry training, we were transferred to the 457th Bombardment Group at Ephrata, Washington. This was in October, 1943. The group had just been activated and we were among the first crews to arrive.

After additional training with the group at Ephrata, we were transferred to Wendover, Utah, for a short time, and then to Grand Island, Nebraska, our staging area. From there the group was transferred to England to participate in the war against Germany. This was January, 1944. I had gotten a brand new B-17 a couple of days before we departed Grand Island on the 23rd January, 1944.The flight to England involved a stop-over in Goose Bay, Labrador, where we stayed for a couple of days waiting for favorable winds. We launched along with other crews from Goose Bay about ten o'clock one night.

To put things in perspective against I now had about 700 hours of flying time, including student pilot time. The navigator had navigated only one flight in the B-17, since in the States, with all the radio stations, a navigator was not needed. So here we were, flying across the Atlantic where the successful arrival at the destination was up to this navigator. However, after several hours,during which the navigator stated he was not sure of our position, we could see land in the breaks of the clouds. Now the only problem was to find the correct air base, which was in Ireland. The ceiling of the clouds was approximately 500 feet, which didn't help. Finally, after some "stooging around", we found the base and landed.

We were one of the few crews who landed at the prescribed base. One crew landed on the beach. Others were at various bases. There were instances when a crew missed the British Isles completely and landed in France or Spain. Such was the capability of the bomber crews at that time. After two or three days, we were led in formation to our home base-to-be, which was called Glatton It was near Peterborough, about 75 miles north of London.

The quarters were quonset huts. There were no closets. The latrine was in a separate building, which contained showers, with cold water only. The mess hall was initially manned by the British. The food was inedible. Fortunately, we had some "K" rations that we could eat. Later our Group mess personnel took over. Then we had powdered eggs and milk. It still wasn't that good, but better. Lots of Brussels sprouts.

Initially we had some training flights to practice assembling in formation over a designated radio beacon. The normal formation for target bombing was an 18 ship formation. The Group aircraft complement was 60 B-17's. Finally, on February 25, I flew my first mission with my crew. The target was in Augsburg, Germany. I saw lots of German fighters, B-17s going down, some blowing up. My co-pilot was hit in the knee with a piece of shrapnel from flak. He was hospitalized for ten days or so. After landing we were told that there were 35 holes in the airplane; however, fortunately none resulted in damage to essential functions of the airplane.

At this time, the policy was that if one completed 25 missions, this constituted a tour, and one would be returned to the States. After that first mission, I remember asking myself "How can you possibly get through 25 of these?"

The day time formation bombing by the American forces, with the ultimate goal of destroying the war making capability of the German and Italian forces in Europe, was unique in warfare. While it didn't quite accomplish its goal in Europe, at least, it reduced the enemy capability sufficiently to allow army forces to win their battles and eventually win the war. One reason it was not completely successful was the inadequate power of the bombs used. We didn't have the atom or nuke bombs then. Life, at that time, consisted of work and very little sleep for me. I went over as an aircraft commander with a crew of nine other people. Their duties on the crew were: 1 co-pilot, 1 bombardier, 1 navigator, 1 radio operator/gunner, 1 engineer/gunner, 2 waist gunners, 1 ball turret gunner,and 1 tail gunner.

The B-17 was equipped with 11 guns. There were three gun turrets with two .50 caliber guns each. One was in the nose and was controlled by the bombardier. There was also a gun there controlled by the navigator. Another turret was just back of the pilots and on top, and was controlled by the flight engineer. Behind the bomb bay was the radio rooms which had a gun controlled by the radio man. In the bottom of the aircraft was the so-called ball turret. This was a big ball, barely big enough for a man to crawl into and be able to aim and fire the guns. There were two waist guns,one on each side, and the guns in the tail of the aircraft. These were controlled by individual gunners.

Shortly after arrival in England, l assumed the duties of Operations Officer of one of the squadrons (751st Squadron). In this capacity, I was responsible for the activities of the combat crews in the squadron. This involved assigning duties, scheduling training, and assigning crews to positions in the flying formations on the bombing misslons. We averaged fifteen to twenty crews per squadron, and the number was dependent upon losses sustained and the availability of replacements.

The missions were scheduled 8th Air Force Headquarters.

Weather over England,and especially over Europe, was the primary determinant of whether and when and how many sorties would be flown on a given day. Most take-offs for the missions were usually around six o'clock in the morning. This required getting the crews to briefing by two o'clock. Breakfast was served before briefing.

We were usually alerted for a mission the day before by six o'clock in the evening. After such an alert, the crew composition and positions in the formation were assigned. Theoretically, I could go to bed after this and be able to sleep until one o'clock or so. However, many times there were changes in the number of aircraft to be scheduled. This required changes in the number of crews and their positions. This was all done at Group operations. That reduced the time for sleeping. After the bombers took off on the mission, there was crew training and other things to take care of during the day. Then the aircraft returned around two o'clock in the afternoon.

Later I was assigned duties as Squadron Commander (749th Squadron) which allowed time for more sleep. At one point, I needed sleep so badly that I thought if my plane was shot down and I could have a successful bail-out, I would take it. Nothing to do in POW camps but sleep.

The initial missions produced various results, mostly bad. On one of these, the group failed to get assembled, resulting in some aircraft returning to base while others joined other formations. We were still learning.

Formation assembly was accomplished over a radio beacon. The lead ship took off, went to the designated beacon, and circled. While circling, multi-colored flares were fired. The colors identified the group. With so many airplanes in the air, this identification was necessary. It also identified the lead ship. The other aircraft followed at 30 second intervals and joined the circling formation. At the designated time after the group formation, the formation departed en route to the designated target. With so many bombers in the air over England at one time, meeting designated times over checkpoints was critical, as was time over the target. There were some air collisions.

Initially, weather over intended targets determined how many formations would be scheduled, if any. About mid-way in my tour, radar bombing, though somewhat unreliable and imprecise, was available. This considerably increased bombing and mission activity.

After two or three months, our bombing results improved considerably. Also, German fighter defenses diminished. This was due to shortage of aircraft fuel, fighters available, and pilots. Initially, the fighters attacked the bomber formations either singly or in small groups. Later,due to fewer fighters and inexperienced pilots, they attacked in larger group formations. With this tactic, the number of our planes attacked on any particular day was limited. However, the ones that were attacked suffered many losses. In fact, one group, the 100th, was almost completely wiped out on three different occasions. Our losses on missions varied. Sometimes we lost none. Sometimes two or three and up to five. There were nine losses on one particular mission. (Merseberg, Nov 2nd, 1944) We started with 60 airplanes in the group and by June or July had lost 60. Of course, replacements were provided.

The flak was intense at times, especially over prime targets. After D-Day, and as the Germans were pushed back, the flak was more intense because they moved their flak guns back to add to the defense of targets still under their control. However, I never sweated the flak like I did the German fighters. By the time D-Day came along on June 6th, I had flown about 15 missions. Some were rough (holes in airplanes), some easy, called "milk runs". I had no brakes on landing on one mission. The aircraft ran off the runway, but settled in the soft English mud with no damage.

I did not fly on the missions for D-Day. I had led the mission on June 4th, so it wasn't my time to lead. I remember listening to General Eisenhower announcing the invasion to the world and invoking the blessings of Almighty God for its success. It was successful, despite many casualties and Iosses. We lost no aircraft in the Group on D-Day.

As I have previously stated, the all-out bombing effort by the United States was unique in warfare. It was also unique, naturally, in the lives of the crew members who flew the missions. Reactions varied. At the beginning of a tour, most crew members assumed a fatalistic attitude of "I'm either going to make it,or I'm not". But, after completing half the required total, if successful, there was more anxiety. The thought then became, "If I have completed one half of the missions, I might make it". Then "sweating" the missions increased. Very few refused to continue and very few wound up in rest centers. The worst time for most occurred during the time between crew briefing and take-off. They then knew what the target was to be, and an estimate of the defenses that might be encountered. Also, after getting their equipment and going to their airplane, there was nothing to do but "sweat". I saw some vomit during this time, particularly on a rough target. Once the crew became airborne, there were crew duties to perform which required their concentration.

My seventeenth mission, flown on June 14th, 1944 was the roughest, from a life-threatening stand point. The target was the Le Bourget airport in Paris, which, of course, was being used by the Germans. This was not supposed to be a difficult mission because the distance was not great and it was in France, rather than in Germany. The assembly and flight to the target was uneventful.

I was the deputy leader on this trip. When flying as a leader or deputy leader, that individual occupied the co-pilot's seat in the airplane. The responsibility for the crew was the pilot's, who, in effect, was the aircraft commander. The leader was concerned with the success of the mission.

When we were on the bomb run we were attacked by numerous German fighters. Our aircraft received numerous hits, which resulted in the loss of one engine, all hydraulic pressure, all communication equipment, even within the aircraft, and all engine instruments. Additionally, there were explosions and fire in the cockpit. The explosions were caused by the flares that were to be used in the formation assembly, but were not used since we were the deputy lead. Apparently the fighter attack had ignited the flares. It was obvious that the three of us in the cockpit were going to have to leave that area. There were two doors, one in the back leading to the bomb bay and to the rear of the aircraft, and one that led to the bombardier-navigator compartment in the front of the aircraft. The aircraft was, at this time, on automatic pilot. I got out of my seat and went below. I told the people there that we were on fire and would have to bail out. Someone tried to jettison the escape hatch but it wouldn't jettison, which closed off that avenue of escape. By this time, things became real confusing. We were at 25,000 feet, and I had been without oxygen for a time. My instincts told me if I didn't get some oxygen soon, I would pass out. I started back to the cockpit. By this time, the fire had almost gone out. The floor of the cockpit was made of wood and it was still smoldering. I encountered the engineer, who had been fighting the fire. His clothes were smoldering, also, so I extinguished that fire with my hands. They got a fairly good burn, which I didn't notice at the time.

I finally managed to get back to the co-pilot's seat and grabbed the oxygen hose and started sucking on it. I don't know what happened to my oxygen mask. As I started to be able to focus my eyes, I noticed that the airplane was flying fairly level. I looked at the altimeter and we were down to 20,000 feet.

I asked the engineer (Sgt Paul A. Birchen) where the pilot was, and he informed me that he had bailed out through the bomb bay.

Since the airplane was still flying relatively well, and since the fire was out, why not try to get back to England? But I had a very sick airplane. One engine was out and the prop was windmilling and couldn't be feathered. Another engine was smoking real badly but was still running. All engine instruments were out. We were all alone in the air now, since, with all the problems and confusion, we could not stay with the group. Also, with the bad engine, we couldn't have kept up anyway.

We were now in the situation, a lone bomber, that normally invited further fighter attacks. I moved over to the pilot's seat. I further reduced our altitude because, among other things, it was easier to maintain air speed at a lower altitude. There were some clouds around and I tried, as much as possible, to stay in the clouds to avoid additional fighter attacks. After considerable anxiety, we approached the English Channel with a sigh of relief. We saw no more German fighters. Eventually we approached our base. Since we had no communication equipment, we could not ask for landing information. With no hydraulic pressure, we had no brakes on landing.

I tried to make the approach so that I would land as near the beginning of the runway as possible. We landed, and one of the gunners released his parachute, that he had attached securely to a part of the airplane. This helped slow our landing roll. We stopped before reaching the end of the runway. The fire in the cockpit had been of such magnitude that they retired the airplane because they were afraid some of the aircraft structure may have been weakened.

Following that mission, I was sent to Scotland for several days, and later was awarded the Silver Star and the Purple Heart for the Le Bourget mission. (Sgt Birchen, the engineer, also received the Silver Star for his gallentry in action). The remaining missions on my tour were relatively uneventful except one, in which clouds were such that the formation could not get above them. B-17 formation can not be maintained in the clouds, so all planes scattered and it was again single planes returning to England. Fortunately, we encountered no fighters. I guess they didn't like the weather, either.

Upon completion of my tour, the war was going good for the Allies. I packed my bags and went by train to a base in England that provided air transportation to the States. After a few days wait, I finally got on an airplane and arrived in New York around the middle of December, 1944. After processing at a base there, I caught a train for San Antonio. Upon arrival there, I was met by my wonderful wife and two year old son. A fitting climax to the most eventful year of my life.

The war ended in Europe May 8, 1945. The 457th Bomb Group returned to the States in May, 1945,and was disbanded in June, 1945.

The Group flew 236 combat missions and lost 94 aircraft.

In addition to the awards previously mentioned (Silver Star, Purple Heart) I was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, the Air Medal with three Oak Leaf Clusters, and the French Croix de Guerre. 

[bobbysocks]

WWII STORY: THIS IS IT !

about 9 pages of a great story. its copyrighted so i will not post it here but can give you the link so you can read all for yourself. enjoy..it is worth it.

http://aafo.com/library/history/B-17/thisisit.htm