Griggs - Flying Flak Alley : personal accounts of World War II bomber crew combat

McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers
Jefferson, North Carolina

Grateful acknowledgment is made for permission to quote from the following copyrighted works: Flight of a Maverick, by Robert H. Fesmire. Copyright 1995 Eggman Publishing, Inc. By permission of his son, Robert C. Fesmire. From the Class of 41, by Thomas M. French. Copyright 2003. By permission of the author/publisher. One Chance in 37,000, by R.M. Benson. Copyright 1986 J-Mar Printing. By permission of the authors brother, Bob Benson. Remembrance of War: The Experiences of a B-29 Pilot in World War II, by J. Ivan Potts, Jr. Copyright 1995 J. Ivan Potts and Associates, Inc. By permission of the author/publisher. Splash One Dreamboat, by Arvid Shulenberger, and associated pictures are copyrighted by his son, Eric Shulenberger.

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGUING DATA ARE AVAILABLE

BRITISH LIBRARY CATALOGUING DATA ARE AVAILABLE

e-ISBN: 978-1-4766-1618-6

2008 Alan L. Griggs. All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

On the cover: Flak bursts encountered by US planes over target in the European theater (courtesy John Kolemba); WWII Pilot wings pendant

McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers
Box 611, Jefferson, North Carolina 28640
www.mcfarlandpub.com

In loving memory of Lee Griggs

In history, as in human life, regret does not bring back a lost moment, and a thousand years will not recover something lost in a single hour.
Stefan Zweig

Hello again, everybody. Its a bee-yooo-tiful day for baseball.
Harry Caray

The moral tests to which the crew of a bomber were subjected reached the limits of human valour and sacrifice. Here chance was carried to its most extreme and violent degree above all else.

Winston Churchill

How incredible it is for a man today to look back and say he could load a plane up with gasoline, bombs, and nine other men and then go out and fly a mission, get shot at, come back, and do it again and again and again and again. Somehow we did it and it was amazing.

B-24 copilot Jim White

I recall what a bomber looked like when it got a direct hit, especially when it was loaded with bombs and the tanks were almost full of gas. What you saw was something that looked like a vapor cloud. No debris. No parachuting airmen. Nothing. The only time we gave it deep thought was when we came back to base and we sat there on our cots for a while and said, Damn, that didnt happen to me and Im glad. Was it a risk flying one of those airplanes? You better believe it.

B-17 waist gunner Leonard Mika

This book represents a labor of love that eventually spanned five years, the death of a child, and quite a few starts and stops. Throughout, I was buoyed by the support of many: the men whose stories comprise this book as well as their wives and families, my friends and family, and practically everyone I told about the effort.

A debt of gratitude is owed to William A. Rooney, a published historian himself, for his expert editing and unfailing support, and to Michael Bess, Chancellors Professor of History at Vanderbilt, for his sage advice, encouragement, and wonderfully written foreword.

To Wayne Campbell, Winston Evans, Kaye Evans, Tom Ridley (even if he was a top flight fighter pilot), Larry Smith, Yvonne Smith, Jonny Scruggs, Cathy Mumford, David Van Hooser, George Menzel, Samuel Hynes, Eric Shulenberger, Tom Gibson, David Barton, Steve Hall, Ken Tucker, Joe and Margaret McCluney, Ivan Potts, Jr., Barry Cross, Bill Roberts, Ron Russell, Robb Harvey, Dick Gardner, Sandra Harris, LeAnn Polk, Harry Williams, Jr., Steve Horton, Frank Loose, Ed Wyrick: my eternal thanks for your help and encouragement. To all others who know of this book and who offered their best wishes along the way: you will always be very special to me. Thank you.

To the men, their wives, and families who opened their hearts and homes to me, who willingly shared stories they rarely shared with others, even family, and who offered encouragement and hope through this long process: I am humbled by your generosity, your courage, and your sense of duty. All of usfuture generations includedowe you much.

And now to my family: Sandra, Elizabeth, and William. We bear the hurt and pain of a tragic loss. Life changed forever on December 7, 2005, yet we survive, endure, and move forward, knowing there are better days ahead. For the many hours when my mind was on the book and not on more important matters at hand, when I was less than an adequate spouse and parent, and for the incredible patience you gave me when it seemed this book would never be completed, my gratefulness is beyond words. I love you more than you can imagine.

Lee, I know you were proud of your dads book plans and I know you are even prouder today. We love you and will always be thankful for the blessing you were, and are, in our lives.

I am a storyteller, have been for over 30 years since I began my career in journalism. Ive learned the power of stories well told, their relationship to all of us, and their resilience over generations. As a student of history, I also know that many stories are lost because little or no effort is made to preserve them. We are poorer for that, I believe.

Bill Roberts and I share a background in journalism, though the ink is still under his fingernails while my work is now what is called video vapor after years in television news. Bill served as a gunner, flying the B-24 as part of the 376th Bomb Group, the proud Liberandos who flew 451 missions and received three Distinguished Unit Citations during World War II. Then he went back to work as a newspaperman.

I believe it was a conversation with Bill that peaked my interest in a group of gentlemen who meet once a month to break bread, share stories, and renew friendships. They are members of the World War II Bomber Group of Middle Tennessee. While they live in and around Nashville, many are from other parts of the country. They are a wonderful cross section of the young men, many just out of their teens, who flew bombing missions during the war. While age has wrought its inevitable effects, their memories of wartime experiences are vivid.

It is out of admiration for them and their deeds as well as a sense that their stories must be shared that led me to this book. For most of these men, their first trips away from home involved service to their country and overseas combat. What a world it was. Often they were up and out before dawn, drawing missions that lasted up to 10 hours, sometimes longer. Once airborne, they faced a series of hazards that included flak, fighters, bad weather, collisions, and mechanical and human failure.

As civilians, they were largely young men not long out of high school who became wise veterans, seasoned in the unpredictable whims of flying complex, lethal machines in high altitude combat, many not to see their hometowns and families again. Some survived long odds as part of the U.S. strategic bombing campaign over Europe. Others faced certain death if shot down over the jungles and vast stretches of water in the central and south Pacific.

Still others were eyewitnesses to the storm of fire that rained down on Japanese cities near wars end. A few found themselves prisoners of war, when every moment meant an uncertain future.