[Brief recollections of Basic Training and Radio School.  Included are some of Harley's letters home which have survived the years.  The names he mentions are mostly brothers and sisters though a few elder relatives and friends are named.]
 

Oct 42 Joined up.

"Basic Training at Shepard Field, Texas for 6 weeks. Red clay country, really sticky when on a hike during a rain!"
 

Nov 42- Apr 43

"Radio Operators Training Course, Scott Field, Illinois. 6 months. Challenged, worked hard at it, went to St. Louis, Mo only once or twice for weekend- very tame."
 

Letter home:

Air Forces Technical School

Scott Field, Illinois
 
 

Dear Lamoine an [Jen crossed out]

When the war is over we'll all enlist again
When the war is over we'll all enlist again
When the war is over we'll all enlist again
like a pigs ---- ---- ---- we will.

(to the tune of Battle Hym of the Republic.)
 
 

Dinah won't you blow,
Dinah won't you blow
Dinah won't you blow your horn.

Some ones in the kitchen with Dinah

Some      "    "    "        "    I know etc.
 
 

The second lutenant went over the top
parly voo,
The second lutenant went over the top
parly voo,
The second lutenant went over the top
He must have heard a penny drop.
Hinkey dinkey parly voo
-------------------------
The permanent party's a bunch of jerks
parly voo,
The permanent party's a bunch of jerks
parly voo,
The permanent party's a bunch of jerks
They always screw up the works.
Hinkey dinkey parly voo
------------------
The second luetenants been at it again
parley voo
The      "              "                 "      "  "    "
   "           "
The       "              "                 "      "   "    "
They'll win the war with a fountain pen

Hinkey dinkey parly voo.
 

A few of the verses for this song aren't fit to be sent thro the mails but they are well known here. Most of the songs aren't complimentary to the person sung to, but the non coms and officers are a lot of fine sports and let us sing almost anything as long as we stick to established words.

Letter home:

Those cookies arrived in good shape and were very good. Gosh, I ate them instead of going to chow. The first home cooked cookies since you sent those a month ago. It might be hard for you to realize how good they were. Those cookies tasted better than any food I've had for a month. Grandmother Tuck sent me a New Testament and a couple good linnen hankerchiefs. They sure are nice. It sure is nice of her isn't it. We let our barracks get a bit too dirty four days ago, and as punishment we drill an hour every afternoon and G.I. the barracks. The drilling is sort of fun when we all get to cracking jokes and suddenly snapping to attention when the sargeant looks out his window from the near by barracks. When the drill master makes a mistake and scatters us all over the street we razz the heck out of him. Last night a sargeant and his girlfriend were in their car on the street we were drilling. The drill master would march us back and forth in front of them and each time order "Eyes Right" or left whatever the case would be. The girl's face got pretty darned red as we were all laughing at their disgusted looks. Those two didn't get much wooing done.

It's little things like this that keep Army life from being drudgery. Another platoon was being drilled on the same street at the same time as we were. The two groups would march toward each other and the drill masters would try to make the other say "To the rear march" first to prevent collision. Half the time we met and had a swell time getting untangled. Well, see you later

Love

Harley

Lights out

now. (8:30 PM)
 
 
 
 

Letter home:

[AFTS stationary]
 
 

Dear Mom + Dad:

It never entered my head that I hadn't told you that those radio books arrived. I'm awfully sorry to cause you a lot of worry. They arrived about two weeks ago in good shape. They sure have come in handy. It helps more than you realize I think. Thanks a million. I'll write as soon as I get more time, but this is to let you know that the books arrived O.K. Are things getting warmer? They sure are here.

I'm feeling swell and getting a 90% average in radio theory. O.K. in code too.

Love

Harley
 
 

P.S. I get quite a few teeth filled tomorrow. None pulled thank goodness. I'll be glad when its over

H.H.T.
 
 
 

Letter home:

[blue winged shield]

U.S.ARMY AIR CORPS

Scott Field, Illinois
 
 

March 1, 1943 Monday

Dear Mom and Dad.

Yep, I'm rich again; to the tune of $30. Yesterday was payday, last day of the month and the only day since last Tuesday I haven't had to report for Callenthetics. They would have paid me more but I've got a lot coming out for bonds, insurance, laundry and 17c for a mush bowl I broke. Of course next month the 17c won't be coming out of my pay. I hope.

I'll postpone some of the rumors and stuff to tell of some stuff that's been happening here lately. There's a rule on this field that we march to the chow hall whether we eat or not. After getting there any fellow is free to come back if he wishes. Up till day before yesterday half of us were going to chow ahead of time. The barracks chief was supposed to call role + report all absentees. He hadn't been. Three fellows reported in front of the barracks to be marched to chow. Those three going down the street in front of the squadron headquarters instead of the sixty that should have been aroused the Captain's what- do- you- call- it. A few minutes later a corporal sent by him came thru our barracks taking the names of all men that didn't march to chow as they were supposed to. That corporal found ben in closets, under beds and in the rafters. It must have been a riot. One of the men that he caught gave his name as Schwartz. Yesterday the Corp. was down here to get those fellows that he had caught for an hour's drill for that day + plus 6 more days. He, the corporal couldn't find any Schwartz. Despite all his threatening no one would step forward to confess to the perjury or any thing else you want to call it. It was downright funny in some ways. That corporal was mad and most of us were laughing. Just now he came up looking for another fellow whose name isn't on the roster. According to him from now on anyone getting caught absent from Callyhoops, supper etc. is to go up and see the Capitan and let the squadron commander give out the appropriate punishments. The trouble is that this barracks has more guys out for a good time (despite definite established rules) that right now we're being watched awfully carefully.

There is one man in here that goes to school about 3 days a week. The rest of the time he reports to Sick Book so he can go to the Dispensary; make up some spot, foot, hand or something and get a bottle of pills or somethin! His foot locker is full of bottles, pills and junk. Of course no fellow with a sore leg or injury has to do daily callenthetics. He has a medical excuse every day.

It's a lot of fun trying to analyze the characters of some fellows around here.

If I pass the gunner's physical test I'm a gunner, automatically and so forth. When we graduate from gunner's school we're to be technical sargeants. There's a few other alternatives; no one can tell which one I'll get yet.

Just an hour later:

Just got back from Callenthentics. Colder than blue blazes for a while with the wind blowing; but after a while we got used to it and it wasn't so bad. The weather we had in Yakima got me used to the weather we have here. How many miles can you go each week with an "A" and "C" book? Is there enough gas for you to do what you want to?

I'm just about ready to fold up. How come Tad's home?

Alice and Mary are writing to Grover now. I suggested Alice write him and she's recieved 2 letters from him. She likes his letters and him from what she said in her last letter.
 
 

Are any of you using those two small music books that I was fooling around with when I was home? I'd sure like to learn those songs in those books if nobody is using them. (Me and my mandolyn)
 
 

Love

Harley
 
 
 

Letter home:

Dear Mom and Dad:

I just got thro mailing a couple photographs to you ten minutes ago. There's a big one, unframed, and a small one framed. It's just a suggestion but wouldn't it be nice to give the big one to Grandma Grover? She would like it.

Everything's O.K. here and I'm feeling fine.
 
 

Love

Harley
 
 

Letter home:

Dear Mom and Dad.

So far Miss Spring hasn't been able to scare old man Winter away yet, but she'll succeed just as sure you're alive and kicking. All we students here at Scott Field have to do is wait for warm weather or graduate and try to get to some warm weather. If the wind would be inclined to be warmer the climate wouldn't be bad but as it is some mornings we get darned cool. There is a rumor going around camp that all students will be made P.F.C.'s. Just a rumor; no official or semi official word. That's enough time to devote to rumors.

I just recieved a letter from Alice. She says that the weather in Seattle is swell. How is it in Olympia? Alice seems to have taken a liking to Grover, and Grover to Alice (comparing both of their letters). Now the squadron we belong to is on the third shift of school. Classes take up at 7:10 P.M. At 10:30 P.M. we go to the other building to work. School lets out at 1:30 A>M> Reville is at 9:00 A.M. From reville til callyhoops at 3:45 P.M. we are off duty unless payday, special movie or etc comes up.

Breakfast is at 9:30; lunch at 1:00; supper at 6. So far this shift isn't so nice because I get sleepy about 10:30 P.M. As soon as everything gets settled I think there'll be time for a nap just after chow. Some men in this barracks live on about 5 hours of sleep a night and do pretty good in school. But I need about 8 1/2 hours. The time from 1:45 till 9:00 A.M. gives about 7 hours.

To the Glossary!

Chow now. I'll try to finish after supper. It's just about 6:00 P.M. now.

1:50 A.M. No, I didn't have time to do anything after chow but grab my notebook and run for the class's meeting place about a block away. Just as I got there they started off to school. You see there isn't much time for anything.

It seems kind of funny. I've got a sneaking feeling I should be sleeping since I've been up since 9:00 AM and didn't get to bed until 2:00 AM the night before. But I'm not sleepy; just a bit tired. Tomorrow is my day off so I've got time to spare. There will be no school for us until Wednesday evening. Tecknically it is Tuesday morning now but to me it's still Monday night. I'm not going out tomorrow; just sleep, eat, see a show or two and in general enjoy myself.

School is getting very interesting. We don't do much studying outside school. As a rule I just temporarily forget radio till I'm going back to school. Mom, the pen that is diong all this writing is 3 months old. To begin with I paid two bucks for it in the P.X.at Sheppard Field. It's a Waterman's. This pen writes the equivalent of about four sheets of paper this sizeon both sides each day in one filling. One day I forgot to fill it and it wrote O.K. even then. I'm just suggesting it because I believe its a good buy if you needa pen and want to pay about $2.25 for one. About a weekago some fellows were caught in the barracks when theyshould have gone to chow, or at least as far as the chowhall as they were supposed to. The person that caught them was a red haired corporal. Nice fellow to about half of his acquaintances. One of his victims mentioned above gave his name as George A. Schwartz. Just after chow he came around to round up those men he had caught. He called off the names of the ones he wanted. Everybody that was wanted was accounted for but George A. Schwartz. He yelled a bit louder but still no G.A.Schwartz. About this time the barracks capitain tells him there is no one in the barracks by that name. Hegets madder and demands that the fellow who gave the nameas "G.A.S." step forward. No one does. Then he promises the guilty one will go to a "restricted barracks". After this incident if he saw a strange man around the squadron area he asked him what was his barracks number. If it was 759 he'd (the Corp) ask if his name was G.A.S. I was talking to a sargeant in the Orderly Room who said that every non com that saw the Corporal would ask "Have you found George A. Schwartz yet?" Even the captain and leutenants ask him this. To make it worse, every time we see him we just say nonchalantly, "No, we haven't seen G.A.S." He gets awful mad. You see, the standard way to take names for punishments is to get the person's name off of his dog tag or identification card. The Corporal didn't. It is all his fault. We sure have ribbed him, but now the thing is dying away.
 

I'll shut up now

Love Harley
 

P.S. Dear Mom: Yes I got "it"
 
 

Letter home:

March 9, 1943 Dear Lois:

How is everything? O.K. I hope.

It is 3 oclock in the morning and I'm not in bed yet. Shame on me. (maybe). But I got out of school an hour ago (more or less) so its not all my fault. School is fun, I learn a lot, but I still wish that the course was over and I had graduated. I've got 9 more weeks to go to graduate.

Let's see now; you're in the fifth grade now aren't you? Heck, you've skipped a grade somewhere, you don't belong in there. You should be in the third; it wasn't so long ago when you were in the first. Time sure passes doesn't it?

How are you coming along in school? Your teacher is nice I trust.

I'm a goin to bed in a minute now as soon as I write a letter to Roy.
 

Good night Lois. Love
Harley.

(over)

How are you? I hope you are feeling fine. Did you get those Valentines I sent you? Gee, I wish I could see you. I haven't seen you for 3 months.

Do you play with Sweetie very much? Or is she getting lazy and fat.

Oh well, she is a good pup anyhow.

I'm going to bed now. Please write and tell me how you are and everything
 

Love, Your Soldier brother

Harley
 
 
 

Apr 43- Jun or Jul 43

"Gunnery school, Larado, Texas. 3 months, (or was it 2 months?) Went to Mexico once, no wild experiences. I remember it was rather interesting to hear the whores calling out of windows, inviting me and my friends up- we didn't take them up on the deal. We had regular 'short arm' inspections, being called out of the barracks at 4 am in our raincoats- the doctors found quite a few cases of clap."
 

  To the Glossary!
 
 

Letter home:

Dear Mom and Dad and whole fam damily:

How is the new place? Gee it must be nice to be in a place that is your own. Perfect privacy and not too many neighbors.

Doggonit: Here it is my day off and I had to get up with the rest of the barracks because of a blasted dental appointment. Now I'm glad I did it but it didn't start the day right. Those dentists have been giving me an appointment about every 3 weeks. It sure drags the torture out. The Dr. hasn't had to pull any, just fill 11 teeth. Anyway I'm over half way thro. The dentists here have, (as a majority) just graduated from Dentist College or wherever they get their training; but they surely know their business. All 1st luetenants too. Last night 4 fellows were in taking a hot shower.  Some other guys threw in a few buckets of cold water on them. Of course this started a water fight (the menrunning around in the latrines naked).) It was gobs offunwatching them. I've been in a few myself, but I don't make a steady habit of it as some guys do. It's a lot of fun on a hot day and the latrine has to be cleaned anyway before inspection.

Got a letter from Grover today. He is still very much alive and kicking. The paymaster owes him $114 for Marches pay. He has been promoted to 2/c R.M. I think he means 2nd class radio mechanic but I'm not sure as he hasn't said differently.

My progress in school is still satisfactory. I graduate from Scott Field in 3 weeks to the day. "Oh happy day!"

Another trick the inmates of 759 play on each other is: The barracks aren't completely finished on the inside. The rafters are still showing and there is no floor for the attic. Every once in a while when some men who usually come in drunk goes to town

The 12th squadron is now on the second shift. School is from 12:20 to 6:40. On this shift we have 3 hours of leisure in the morning before school and every evening off. It's pretty nice seeing all the good shows that come along if you want to.

Isn't it discraceful? I've been to St Louis Missouri only 4 times since I've been here at Scott Field. The car fare is only 40c. Heck, that town is bigger than Seattle but I've never been more than 5 blocks away from the bus station. Even at that I got lost twice.

Love

Harley

Important

"1st phase of overseas training, Moses Lake, Washington where various crew members were tried out, to see how well we could work together. We made some long flights training in radio direction finding for me, navigation, bombing simulation to check on bombardiers, and gunnery practice on a range near Moses Lake. One waist gunner had to sign a statement of charges for a Hereford cow when he kept on firing after we passed the air- to- ground gunnery targets. He just got excited and didn't want to stop! I think this was the first time the pilot gave H.E.M. a workout, flying the Fortress, buzzing the hills etc., to see what stuff he was made of. Henry E. Mamlock, the copilot, was the last crew member to join, and I think the Pilot did give him a good checkout.
 
 

Letter home:

5 Aug 43
 

Dear Mom and Dad:

Everybody except radiomen are studying turrets now, that is why I have time to write. I'm laying here in the tent almost enjoying myself. I've got a lot to write about but don't know where to begin. In one of the lectures this morning I met Bob Russell. You remember him don't you? The fellow that was our patrol leader + everything else while we were in the Scouts. He's a 2nd luetenant now, in fact, a bombardier in one of the B-17 crews. For pretty close to an hour we were talking over old times. Some of the guys around us probably wondered why I didn't "yes sir", "no sir" right and left, but it never entered my head + Bob probably wouldn't want me to "sir" him anyway. Bob hasn't changed much, only filled out like his dad a lot. He is almost as he was 5 years ago.

Coming in from a break between lectures I happened to see him. I stood off about 30 feet to make sure I had the right guy, then walked up + before I got up to him he recognized me. It is sort of strange to meet a fellow that way. I have been trying to figure out if I should get transfered to his crew or not, maybe it isn't possible. I like the crew I'm assigned to very much in fact I have almost decided to stay with my bunch. Have you any advice? It is hard to figure out.
 
 

In the Evening by the Moonlight

Harley
 
 

  To the Glossary!
 
 

Sep- Nov 43

"From Moses Lake we went to Harvard, and Kearney Neb. for the last 2-3 months of training before we went overseas. Long flights to Texas, over the Gulf of Mexico, up north to Michigan, etc., getting broken in together, learning how to work together. Of course all the time I was practicing code, learning about my equipment so I could do things in a hurry if necessary.
 

Nov 43

"Went overseas. Left Kearney, landed at Bangor, Maine overnight- it was getting frosty and cold. We carried a load of freight going to airbases overseas in England. I remember the first time we took off with that bomb bay full of crates it sure seemed as if the plane took forever to get off, it was so heavily loaded. But of course it was like a pleasure craft compared to when it was full of bombs.

"I was busy sending in position reports all the way across the Atlantic, using the big transmitter in the radio room and the trailing wire antenna. My 300-500 ft of antenna was reeled out to carry the 2,000 miles to the ground station- to Bangor, Maine until we got over 1/2 way across, then switched to a base station in England. We flew alone, with a plane about 1 hour behind us.

"Our airbase was called Rattlesden, our ships had on the tail a white square with a black K. When we circled to land, another airbase was always in sight, a white square with an A on it, the 94th in our same 447th Bomb Group."

Air crews arriving in England at this time were part of a plan by the Allies to achieve air superiority over the European Continent preparatory to the Invasion. Up to this time English bombers had been concentrating on nighttime mass bombings. This practice was safer but far less effective than the precision daylight bombing advocated by some American Army Air Force Generals. The American Bomber Command mounted several missions in summer and fall of 1943 to prove the feasibility of the technique. The results were clear: much better accuracy was obtained with much higher loss of men and planes. The timetable for the Invasion had to be maintained, however, in order for the German war industries to be crippled sufficiently that an invasion might be successful. Another big push was planned for February 1944, so new crews and improved planes were obtained and sent in to make up the shortages.

On November 26th, 1943 there were three Air Divisions in England, the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd. The third Division consisted of two bomber Wings, the 13th and the 4th. Fourth Bomber wing was made up of three Bomber groups based at airfields scattered around the southwest of England: the 94th Bomber Group at Bury St. Edmonds, the 385th at Great Ashfield, and the 447th at Rattlesden, 75 miles northeast of London as the B-17 flies. In the 708th Bomb Squadron of the 447th Group, crew #5 of the "Hi Jinx", ship #231145, joined the war.
 
 

The crew was made up of ten men, four officers and six enlisted men. Lieutenants Gilleran (T.W.G.) and Mamlock, pilot and co-pilot, 2nd Lts Lazarus and McGurer the navigator and bombardier. The rest of the crew were sergeants. Engineer McHugh (Mac), radio operator/gunner Tuck, Harris (M.D.) in the ball turret, Kealer and (Fred) Hawley were waist gunners, and Dill was tail gunner.

Few if any of the crew had ever left their home state before entering the military, certainly none of them had ever been outside the U.S.A. Now they found themselves in a country which was totally alien to them except for some of the words the natives spoke.  But the English natives were nowhere as alien as the war the young men were now expected to wage. They had no concept of what to expect outside of what they'd been told in notoriously slanted training films and and what they'd learned in their experiences shooting up a cow or a paper target.

They brought with them the American values of their time: the naievete Sgt Tuck displayed in his letters, a war time mentality which stigmatized hoarding of valuable resources, and the ignorance of death common to all young warriors. The mens' awareness even had to shift to new understandings of bodily processes. Before, in life on the ground, a stuffed nose, intestinal gas or dental abcesses were merely to be lived with. Now, at altitudes of 20,000 ft. or more, they could turn into medical emergencies as liquids or gasses in blocked bodily cavities strove to expand to equalize atmospheric pressure differences. In ways as different as the men were individuals, their perceptions would all change in time.

Once 'over there' the men settled into a routine of never being sure of what was going to happen from day to day. They usually knew the night before if they were on alert, scheduled for a mission the next day. If not, they could stay up a little later and maybe carouse a bit. They were wakened in the morning at 7- 8:00, had a leisurely breakfast then went to morning roll call to get the day's work and training assignments. While in the training phase preparatory to being put on combat status, back- to- back classes were the order of the day. Especially common were practice missions, aircraft recognition classes, and equipment practice.

"There were no Link trainers [when we got there] as I remember, even for the officers and pilots. When training was needed, there were training flights. My crew was given many shit duty flights, ferrying crews up to a B-17 modification center in Ireland. We'd fly up there and bring the crews back. Then after a few days we had to take the crews up there to fly their ships back, about a 1 1/2 hr flight.

"The planes were left up there for a few days to have the radios modified. The radios were too powerful, they'd foul up all communications in and around England due to the small air distances involved. Perhaps other changes of frequencies, etc were done too."

"We had to do so much ferrying crews we knew we were on someone's shit list. We got stuck for a ferry flight on Thanksgiving and missed the Dinner on the base. The Britishers fixed us up with a nice attempt at a Thanksgiving Dinner, but it was maddening- do you know how plain that English food can taste?

"Of course we could take our 50 cal machine guns apart with gloves on, blindfolded as part of the training. In some of the ship positions, one cannot see exactly all the parts of the guns- ball turret, top turret or tail, for example. And with the weather about 60 degrees below 0 you need silk gloves to keep your hands from sticking to the steel parts."

When crews were not in class or on training missions, there were several diversions to choose from, all heavily utilized for lack of anything else to do. The base P.X. provided American goods, like the candy, cigarettes and liquor the soldiers were alloted each month.  Movies were shown nearly every night, and canteens provided refreshments and places for social gathering. "There were the Combat Libraries, mostly with technical instructions for everything on the place, divided into the various types of equipment. All sorts of troubleshooting hints were in those libraries. For example, the transmitter we used for code could be recieved over long distances, especially if you tuned up the transmitter to the trailing wire antenna. Reception was good for 1,000 miles or more, depending on the weather. But it used only two of the four large tubes usedfor voice transmission. If the transmitter was hit, or atube burned out, you could use one of the other two to make the transmitter work.

"The ARC library, American Red Cross library had a lot of wonderful books, mostly paperbacks. Easily borrowed, and lots of fun to read when we had time."

Then there were certain extracurricular activities...

"Memories of life on base- swiping coal from a big pile to add to our coal allotment, which never seemed to be enough to keep our 4 crew (EM only) Nissen hut warm. "All the information I provide is thru the mind and eyes of a 20 yr old virgin, still mostly afraid of girls on an intimate basis- the married ones were the ones we felt at ease talking to. Of our crew, only Keeler, married, visited around when he had the chance. The officers, I don't know, they were very discreet, and didn't stick around us enlisted men after we got to London on a pass. We EM were on our own after the first supper when we had a nice meal, paid for by the 2 - 3 winners of the poker game we usually had on the 2 hour train trip to London.

"Off base we went places as a crew, enlisted man and officers, or quite often as EM's only, visiting the many nearby museums, and quiet little towns to ride through on borrowed bikes.

"Among the men in the English armed forces, they didn't like the Yanks much. Their opinion of us, especially the fly boys, was that we were overpaid (they were paid about 1/10 of what we were), over sexed (the girls liked the strange American accents, the rich guys), and over here (in England)."

The morning of a mission was altogether different. Crews usually had gone to bed at 7-8:00 pm, but the CQ's 3:00 am trip through the barracks was always dreaded. A rushed breakfast, usually including meat and real eggs, got wolfed down before the different crew members headed to their separate briefings. Filing past the Military Police posted at the doors of the briefing hall to maintain security, men joked or bitched or just tried to wake up. "From November when we got there, until about 1 April there was rain, rain and more rain. Fog too. If the weather would be clear when we were scheduled to return, we'd take off for a mission in the worst weather. Getting to the end of the tour alive was, of course, the primary aim of the men, but a strong secondary goal, at least for those in units with good morale, was to go home with the crew they came with. If an individual was on sick call and missed a mission, his personal count would fall behind that of the rest of his crew. If the mission was not made up by the end of the tour- assuming the whole crew made it to the end of the tour intact- the lagging crewmember would have to stay behind and fly with another ship while the rest of his buddies were on their way Stateside.

"The crew was gassing up our ship early one morning. Before they open the hand valve to let gasoline into the tank the hose has to be grounded so static electricity won't jump to the ship and start a fire. The man who was to fill the tank forgot to ground the hose first, and he started to fill the tank. There was some some static, and a fire. Everybody but Mac ran off fearing a big explosion, but he walked over to a fire extinguisher nearby and put it out. His explanation: "I can't run very fast and wouldn't have gotten far enough to escape anyway, so I had to put the fire out."

"No, I don't think much was hidden from us, we took the dangerous missions along with the milk runs. Perhaps we were not told the number of B-17's shot down on the various missions, but we might miss crews in our immediate squadron.

"No one was involved in any kind of espionage, no sabotage- just a numb determination to get the mission over with. Oh yes, I do remember a kind of sabotage- one of the Captains, an Operations officer who often flew with an element leading crew (the place most likely to get shot down too) as a pilot. Many men hated his guts- very strict. Looking back on the situation, it might have been a case of focusing hostility due to stress on one officer, the man who they thought cooked up all those terrible missions. Anyway, one time he was going to go on a mission- everybody was in the plane, ready to take off. The mission was scrubbed, cancelled, and as the crew was leaving the plane, some way his parachute rip cord got caught on something, and the chute popped open in the doorway. The shroud lines were all tied in knots, so if used, the chute would not have opened. I remember nothing else about the incident.

"I only flew combat for about 5 months before being shot down, and combat situation was a rapidly changing situation. Until about 1 Jan 44 English or American pursuit ships could protect us only about 300- 400 miles out, due to the flying range of the pursuit ships. The German pursuit ships would wait just outside of range of the Allied planes, then pounce on the bombers as soon as the Allied planes had to turn back. P-47's and P-51's were common. Then for a time in Jan 44, the P-51's came equipped with wing tanks that gave them a lot of extra range, they could escort us another 200 miles or so. But when the German planes came to attack us, the P-51's had to drop their wing tanks in order to be able to engage the German ships in combat. Since they were so far from home, they didn't have very much combat time with no wing tanks. In April, P-38's started escorting us. The number of German planes decreased- shortage of gasoline, skilled pilots, many shot down, too- it became less worrisome. The P-38's could escort us all the way to most targets-we could only see their contrails far above us, they were ready to pounce on any German ship coming close. What a comfort it was to see them above us.

"Flak came in black, red and white -- yes, it sure did. If it burst right next to you, (set to fire at a certain altitude or on contact) the center of the explosion was red, changing to black, then the puff of smoke that drifted off was white. We even got to accept the rattle of tiny fragments of flak that punctured the skin of the planes, and rattled around a little- too small to do damage. We wore flak suits- heavy interlocking pieces of metal, woven, sort of, vests, front and back, that would stop a .45 slug. Weighed about 15 lbs- they made us feel safer."

After days like that in the sky, just laying down was a blessing. After going to debriefing with the ubiquitous M.P.'s, practically nothing was done besides eating supper. No movies taken in, no poker played.

"I never wrote in my diary religiously. Most of the time I wrote after coming back from a mission as a part of the winding down process, after getting back to the barracks after supper."
 
 

COMBAT FATIGUE
 

"There was fear, though. When the complete crews assembled in the main briefing room about 5am or earlier after breakfast, we'd all sit down by crews, waiting for the briefing to start. The big wall map would be there on the wall, with a curtain drawn in front of it. When the mission was announced, they'd draw the curtain, and we would almost curdle up inside when the red yarn leading to our target was to some target far inland, or near some targets where we knew the flak was especially bad.

"When there was a big push on critical targets, we might fly for 5 - 7 days in a row, and we got pretty tense and tired. We'd get about 1/2 cup of medicinal whiskey in our canteen cup after coming back from a mission. I was still a teetotaler at that time, I gave mine to Mac, who felt he needed it. In fact Dill the tail gunner and I both regularly gave our whiskey to Mac."

"Most of us were small time country kids, doing our duty, not thinking about getting shot down, we just knew we'd make it back ok. I guess we were 'well trained', I don't think we considered going AWOL or trying to pretend we were flak happy- we just did what we could, anything else would be letting our crew members down. I remember during some of the most frightening missions, I felt a strong feeling that we were all in it together, our fates were all bound up in doing the best we could.

Another time Mac showed what he was made of was after quite a few hard missions. Our crew was walking towards the messhall, at maybe 5am, before a mission. A man behind us started crying, screaming and firing a carbine up in the air warning others to stay away or they'd be shot. Mac walked over to him slowly, talking gently, and asked for the carbine. It was handed over meekly, and the MP's took the man to the base hospital. I heard of quite a few men coming close to mental breakdowns due to flying combat. The flight surgeon(s) watched us pretty closely, and had talked to the pilots about the condition of crew members. I suspect the officers had some special training to notice crew members coming close to the ragged edge. We'd hear of an officer or crew member not going on a mission because of an emergency medical leave, or "combat fatigue" or flak happy.
 

Here, then, is the Diary.
 
 

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