In view of what has been going on this week I felt this appropriate.
It was March 29, 1944, and the twentieth mission for our B-17 crew. We were assigned to the 401st Squadron of the "Mighty Eighth" Air Force and flying out of a former Royal Air Force base at Bassingbourne, England. On that day, we were to lead an attack against an aircraft factory near Brunswick, Germany. On previous missions to this area, we had encountered fierce fighter opposition and were briefed now to expect more of the same. At this point in the war, our strategy was to destroy the Luftwaffe-in the air, on the ground and in the factories-in preparation for the planned D-Day landings.
The ten members of our crew had grown accustomed to the nervous tension that built up in our bodies during each mission, because many crews were being shot down during this period. We were given a detailed briefing on the weather, expected opposition from antiaircraft fire and fighter aircraft, survival techniques, etc. Then we gathered up our parachutes, helmets, flak vests and guns before going to our aircraft.
The ball of apprehension in our stomachs grew during this takeoff in our overloaded aircraft. As we climbed up to our bombing altitude of twenty-six thousand feet, the other five planes in the squadron that I was leading joined us. Over the English Channel, the guns were test-fired and radio checks completed. We sped toward our target and dropped our load.
After completing the bombing run, the formation made a sweeping left turn toward home. A crew member called our attention to a group of about fifty fighter aircraft at two o'clock, ahead and to our right, and slightly higher than our formation. We were always suspicious of any fighter aircraft, because our crafty enemy resorted to all types of ruses to draw our gunners' attention while others would then press in with an attack. Some familiar tricks were simulating friendly fighter tactics, mock dogfights, etc., while other enemy aircraft suddenly turned in to attack us.
However, these aircraft had the familiar P-51 black paint with white stripes on the wings and were equipped with the wing tanks for extra range. Suddenly, they dropped their tanks just off to our right, and we looked around for German fighters in the area. We found them, when the whole formation of "P-51s" turned out to be Luftwaffe ME-109s that turned in to us with their cannons blazing! We narrowly missed being rammed by two of them that just barely passed over us.
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It was March 29, 1944, and the twentieth mission for our B-17 crew. We were assigned to the 401st Squadron of the "Mighty Eighth" Air Force and flying out of a former Royal Air Force base at Bassingbourne, England. On that day, we were to lead an attack against an aircraft factory near Brunswick, Germany. On previous missions to this area, we had encountered fierce fighter opposition and were briefed now to expect more of the same. At this point in the war, our strategy was to destroy the Luftwaffe-in the air, on the ground and in the factories-in preparation for the planned D-Day landings.
The ten members of our crew had grown accustomed to the nervous tension that built up in our bodies during each mission, because many crews were being shot down during this period. We were given a detailed briefing on the weather, expected opposition from antiaircraft fire and fighter aircraft, survival techniques, etc. Then we gathered up our parachutes, helmets, flak vests and guns before going to our aircraft.
The ball of apprehension in our stomachs grew during this takeoff in our overloaded aircraft. As we climbed up to our bombing altitude of twenty-six thousand feet, the other five planes in the squadron that I was leading joined us. Over the English Channel, the guns were test-fired and radio checks completed. We sped toward our target and dropped our load.
After completing the bombing run, the formation made a sweeping left turn toward home. A crew member called our attention to a group of about fifty fighter aircraft at two o'clock, ahead and to our right, and slightly higher than our formation. We were always suspicious of any fighter aircraft, because our crafty enemy resorted to all types of ruses to draw our gunners' attention while others would then press in with an attack. Some familiar tricks were simulating friendly fighter tactics, mock dogfights, etc., while other enemy aircraft suddenly turned in to attack us.
However, these aircraft had the familiar P-51 black paint with white stripes on the wings and were equipped with the wing tanks for extra range. Suddenly, they dropped their tanks just off to our right, and we looked around for German fighters in the area. We found them, when the whole formation of "P-51s" turned out to be Luftwaffe ME-109s that turned in to us with their cannons blazing! We narrowly missed being rammed by two of them that just barely passed over us.