Ray E. Zinck - The Final Flight of Maggiess Drawer: A Story of Survival Evasion and Escape

The
FINAL FLIGHT of
MAGGIES
DRAWERS

A Story of Survival,
Evasion and Escape

by Ray E. Zinck

TURNER PUBLISHING COMPANY

TURNER PUBLISHING COMPANY

Turner Publishing Company Staff:

Editor: Randy W. Baumgardner

Designer: Ina F. Morse

Copyright 1998 Ray E. Zinck.

Publishing Rights: Turner Publishing Company

All rights reserved.

This book or any part thereof may not be reproduced without the written consent of Ray E. Zinck and Turner Publishing Company.

Library of Congress Catalog

Card Number: 90-60829

ISBN: 978-1-56311-425-0

Limited Edition.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

DEDICATION

Dedicated in loving memory to

Elsie Antionette (Schnare) Zinck

and

Victor Lloyd Zinck

My mother and father

and to

Gerald George Croft (1947-1964)

My friend

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am grateful to many people in the preparation of this book. I only hope the following words of thanks and appreciation will serve as adequate recognition to all those who so kindly and generously offered their time, knowledge and patience.

First, a heartfelt thanks goes to the main subject of this book. Without Joe Maloney, this undertaking about such a compelling event would never have been possible. I am particularly grateful for his understanding and patience during the many occasions when I pestered him with my never-ending questions or tried to challenge his razor-sharp memory. Joe spared no time or effort in helping me to uncover many of his war time and family records, documents, letters, newspaper clippings and other countless pieces of information in the telling of this story. For this, I will always be thankful. I am also truly grateful for the never-ending confidence Joe and his wife, Flora Ann, placed in me in seeing this project through. This means as much as the friendship they have always shown me.

I benefited greatly from the keen editorial eye of my author friend, Joel Blau. He was instrumental in guiding and redefining my writing style and subject focus during the early stages of the manuscript. His keen insight, adept suggestions and astute criticism were invaluable.

Researching a story that reaches back to an event half a century ago required a lot of helping hands. Special thanks go to Archie DiFante at the Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama; Terry Jenkins and Owen Cooke at the Directorate of History, National Defense Headquarters, Ottawa; Professor Lawrence D. Stokes, History Department, Dalhousie University, Halifax, Nova Scotia; Professor James L. Stokesbury, History Department, Acadia University, Wolfville, Nova Scotia; Roland Stumpff of U.S. Veterans Affairs; and Stan Flentje and Henry Fasig Jr. of the 98th Bombardment Group.

Thanks also to several U.S. bomber crew veterans who contributed vital background material to this story: John Rucigay, Reinhold Schweitzer, Art Fleming, Ed OConnor, Bill Crim, Bill Petty, Mike Meger, Paul Kuhns, Ray Kurner and Paul Haggerty. A special note of thanks to Eileen Streicher and Gladys Johnson for kindly offering information and documents on two of Joes deceased crewmates. My gratitude also goes to Newbold Noyes Jr., war correspondent and former editor of the Washington Star.

There is a large debt owed to the scores of people I met and interviewed or who provided me with expert advice from overseas. From Slovenija in the former Yugoslavia, they include: Edi Selhaus, Janez Zerovc, Stan Erjavec Sr. & Jr., Stanko Kusljan, Franciska Sparovec, Anton & Antonja Kos, Franc Brulc, Franc Planinc, Gorazd Planinc, Nilan Zagorc, Milan Zagorc, Jost Rolc, Dusan Kuret, Marija Klobucar, Franci Koncilija, Matija Zgajnar, Alenka Auersperger, as well as Ivo Matusic in Croatia and Dr. Ken Loutit in Morocco. In Austria, I would like to thank Rudolf Bistricky and Andrea Kofler. In England, my appreciation goes to Iain MacKenzie of the National Marine Museum in London.

Several individuals supplied me with documents, newspaper clippings and background research material, so, many thanks to Ana Brodarec, Cay & Harold Fields, Sam Tierney, Kay and Dick Munsen, Stefan Ferron, Trudy Parker, Arthur Thurston, Bruce Knowles and Tony & Mary Manion. My gratitude to Jim Harris for his technical assistance. Thanks also to Edi Selhaus for allowing me to include his wartime photo collection in this publication.

Several organizations also deserve mention for their outstanding research assistance: USAF Escape and Evasion Society, 98th Bomb Group, 15th Air Force Association, Slovene Partisan Hall of Records, Office of the Slovene Air Ministry, Ljubljana Museum of Modern History, Novo Mesto Archives and Museum, Ivo Matusic Air Museum of Matulji, Croatia, the National Archives and Library of Congress in Washington, D.C., Western Counties Regional Library of Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, and the Norfolk Historical Society.

Producing this book has taken its personal toll, especially during my sullen days of writers block. Therefore my sincere appreciation goes to my wife, Louise, for her encouragement and understanding throughout the highs and lows of this project. Thanks to Lisa and Rhonda for never giving up on me. And, a tip of the hat to my very special friend, Cyprus.

INTRODUCTION

The man standing next to me had a faraway look in his eyes. We had been speaking for only a few minutes after meeting up by chance in the midst of a large, boisterous crowd. Wedgeport, a small fishing village hugging the rocky North Atlantic coast of Nova Scotia, was celebrating another summer festival. It was 1992, and, although we had been practically neighbors since he and his wife had retired to the eastern Canadian province in the early 1970s, I had known Joe Maloney for only a few months. As we exchanged small talk, the warm August night was ending on a high note with a dazzling fireworks show featuring a large cluster of flares lobbed high into the dark starry night. As the many points of light drifted back to the earths embrace, small parachutes popped out, slowing their descent. It made for an impressive, albeit, eerie sight. This was the moment I first noticed Joes troubled look.

He turned to me to say that the scene reminded him of the night the Germans were hunting him down during the war. His voice was flat and expressionless. His face a blank. It suddenly dawned on me that Joe was not in Nova Scotia at that moment. He was somewhere else in some far off place, known only to him. He was probably having a flashback. I didnt know what to say. He never once even mentioned to me that he had ever been in the war. The more I stood there, the more his cryptic comment about the Germans rippled through me from head to toe. For the moment, I let it ride. Shrugging my shoulders, I filed the incident in the back of my mind, knowing this must be one of those bleak times of horrible memories for Joe, not unlike the war memories of many soldiers who I had always heard could never bring themselves to talk about it with anyone. Now was not the time to invade this mans private torment. But, I was hooked. I had to know more.

Lets jump ahead a couple of months. Joe and I happened to meet again. After exchanging some pleasantries, I decided to broach the subject that had been nagging me so since our earlier talk. Gently reminding him of the night of the fireworks show, I asked him to tell me more about the time the Germans were after him. He looked at me with penetrating eyes. He was sizing me up. No doubt he was not about to waste his time and energy, not to mention his emotional torment, on someone with only a casual interest in his story. Apparently satisfied with my sincerity, he began to talk, slowly at first, then, with greater confidence. His expression, however, remained matter of fact, as if he were recounting someone elses story. A way of removing himself from some painful memories, I assumed. The more he talked, the more I was impressed with his ability to recall even the smallest details. After all, it had been nearly a half a century ago. He continued to speak in measured, thoughtful tones, especially about the night the Germans used para-flares to try to catch him and his crew somewhere in occupied Yugoslavia. Toward the end of our conversation, Joe offered to lend me a stack of his personal papers: documents, letters, notes and newspaper clippings, from his war years. Of course I said yes. A few days later he dropped the package off to my house. I couldnt wait for him to leave.