MISSIONS

 

First Missions 

We finally finished training on March 21st when orders came for our first mission. We would be part of the biggest armada ever put together. 1,000 bombers would fly to Berlin to begin the bombing assault on the city. That night I was restless and thought about my family, my wife to be, and what might be coming the next day. I'm sure the good Lord heard many prayers from many very anxious men that evening. The next morning came very early. The whole world rumbled with the sound of engines and everything seemed to be on the edge of chaos. After what seemed an eternity, our B24 finally lumbered down the runway and lifted into the sky to join the other planes. Like the others, I was scared, but we were trained to do a job. We set about our tasks and tried to stay busy so that we couldn't think about what might happen in the next few hours.

 

It took over 2 hours just to form over England, circling around and around like a giant whirlpool in the sky. Squadron after squadron of bombers joined the magnificent trail from several bases in the area - each bomber finding its squadron, then the squadron would find its group, and finally, the group would find its place in the giant, ever-growing armada. Everyone found their place using only instruments and by sight. Everyone flew in complete radio silence while the mission was in process. Bombers were everywhere in the sky. They looked like flies. At one point we got caught in prop wash. We went into a sudden turn; the plane shook violently for a minute but then smoothed out, and we slipped back into formation. When the armada was finally complete, the lead group headed toward Hiligan Island, the point where all 1,000 bombers would turn and head straight for Berlin. We, however, lost our superchargers and couldn't keep up with the Armada. The decision was made to turn around and fly home. We landed with all of our bombs intact, so we didn't receive credit for the mission. The next day, we would have another chance to put the first notch in our belts.

 

Our next mission would be a milk run compared to the previous day's campaign. We were to fly 4 to 5 hours to a town in Germany's lower valley. We hit a lot of flack when we crossed into Germany. I reached a new level of scared as the artillery exploded around us. Eventually the flack let up, but we ran into more at our turning point. When we finally arrived at the point where the target should have been, there was no target there. This created a special problem because we were too close to France to drop our bombs, so we ended up bringing our bombs home once again. This time however, we got credit for our first mission because we did receive flack from the enemy. Four planes were lost during that mission.

 

The next day out we hit an airfield in France. The following day we flew another mission. By this time everyone was tired and very scared and very ready for the day pass that awaited us after the fourth mission. 

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2 Day Pass 

I decided to go into England to see if I could find my oldest brother Herb. All I knew was his post office number and that he was stationed somewhere in the Lands End area of England. I took the train into town and stayed at the USO club. When I first arrived, I went down to the game room and met a captain. After I told him my name, he asked me if I knew a Herbert Garman. He told me to come with him. He picked up the phone, dialed a number, and Herb answered. England didn't seem so big to me now.

 

The next morning, Herb and I got together, and we had a great time. Upon parting, he said, "You do the flying for the family. I'll keep my feet on the ground." Later, Herb would get into trouble with his CO and get busted in rank. He would eventually join the airborne infantry.

 

I got back to the base on March 28th. Shortly after returning, I learned that our next mission would be flown on April 1st, 1944; April fools day… I hoped that this wasn't an omen.

 

The Fifth Mission 

Our fifth mission was to bomb Leideshamun, Germany, just off the Rhine River. The flack was exceptionally heavy, and we tried to avoid it as much as possible. Unfortunately, in the process of avoiding the flack, we got off course and became lost. The sky was overcast with the wind blowing out of the North and pushing us further South. We couldn't see the ground, but as we flew near Paris, we could see the Eiffel Tower sticking up out of the clouds. Our group was lagging far behind the leaders due to engine problems caused by flack. Once again, the decision was made to abandon the mission and head for the white cliffs of Dover. We dropped our bombs on some small town in Germany and headed for home. Eventually, one engine shut down slowing our air speed considerably. I could feel my heart beating in my ears, and the prayer element increased dramatically. Because we were all alone, we called for, and received, fighter cover. They stayed with us for as long as they could, but when their fuel ran low, they headed back. It was distressing to see them leave us on our own. The minutes felt like hours as we limped toward home. Then, the worst that could happen began to happen: we lost a second engine. The plane was losing altitude fast. I watched in horror as the altimeter began to spin counterclockwise around the dial. We normally flew at 20,000 feet but had dropped to just 8,000 feet. Lafferty was doing the best he could to keep the air speed up, but the only way to do it was to keep the plane in slow dive. It all became hopeless when the third engine sputtered and then went silent. The pilot ordered the crew to bail out.

 

I got Phil out of the nose turret, and after finding his chute, he urged me to go first. I told him that I had to stay so that I could tell the pilot and co-pilot when the nose was clear. Phil jumped. I yelled that the crew was gone and then jumped out of the doomed aircraft. I was only about 20 seconds behind Phil, but we landed in two completely different places (I was to find out later that his chute did not deploy properly and that he was lucky to make it to the ground intact). He came down right in the middle of a German gun emplacement and was captured almost immediately. I landed in a plowed field, and, after burying my chute, ran for cover in a ravine. I lay in the ravine for a few moments and tried to collect my thoughts. Everything was racing. It was hard to get any kind of perspective on what was happening. I was just relying on my training to stay alive and get to safety. Then, I heard someone coming. I scrambled behind a tree and waited in the brush for what seemed an eternity. It was Marvin Alford, the tail gunner. He had replaced our regular crewmember that was late getting back from his two-day pass. I was sure, at this point, that our replacement had a few choice words that he would like to share with him. But that would have to wait. Right now, we were more concerned with getting out of there. We ran to the edge of the ravine and looked out. We could see Germans standing in a car looking for us, so we ducked back in and ran about a quarter mile to the other end of the ravine. We didn't see anything, so we began running from fence to fence. Someone spotted us during one of our short runs, so we just lay down in the field and waited. Soon, a couple of French boys found us. They told us to stay where we were and someone would come for us. We had no choice but to believe them. It was around 3 or 4 in the afternoon and darkness seemed an eternity away. We settled in as best we could and waited and prayed.

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