On Two Engines And A Prayer, From Munich to San Pancrazio, June 9, 1944

By 2nd Lt. George W. Crawford, Pilot, 513th Squadron, Feb 23 - Aug 10, 1944

When I checked the bulletin board on June 8, for my 33rd mission I was listed to fly first pilot with the George Cloer crew on their first combat mission. In a planning session that evening, 2nd. Lts. George Cloer, co-pilot; John McConnon, Navigator; and Thomas Erskine, Bombardier and I reviewed the 376th formation rules. One, we would fly a very tight formation. Two, we would drop our bombs with the formation. Three, we would do everything possible to stay in the formation as the formation was our best hope to make it safely home.

June 9, 1944.

The rough shake by the OD at 2:00 am had become the standard, rude invitation to join the other silent figures preparing for the dismal choice between greasy French toast with gooey syrup and gummy oatmeal. The toast never looked or tasted worse, but it did look better than oatmeal. Somehow, black coffee always helps the "breakfast" go down, even at 2: 15 am.

The briefing did not help. There is nothing like the announcement "Our target for today is the Oberpfaffenhofen airdrome near Munich, Germany" to raise the ghosts of missions past. Having flown north of the Alps on 6 earlier missions, I had too many bad memories.

On the 7 1/4 hour, March 17 mission to Schwechet, Austria, the formation, in heavy, accurate flak, had salvoed its bombs through a 10/10 undercast. Flak hit our # 3 engine after the bomb run, shattered our windshield and # 43 was knocked out of formation. We watched as the 376th formation disintegated, so we were not the only ones making the long trip home alone. But we were on 3 engines and the temperature inside was -44 degrees F. My left glove froze on the wheel. But bad weather and thick clouds provided cover for the flight home.

March 19, on an 8 hr. mission, to bomb the Me 109 assembly plant at Klagenfurt, Austria we saw German fighters, but none of the fighters attacked our formation. The flak had been very heavy and accurate but this time we suffered only minor damage to # 52, a B-24 D. We took off in a snow storm on March 24 and had to establish our formation south of Lecce before heading for Styre, Austria. We could muster only 17 ships for our section and 5 of these turned back early. Twelve B124s continued on to Styre. The formation held even when we were in the clouds and flying on instruments. The radio call, "Mission aborted, return to base.", was greeted with cheers. The 6 hr. mission flying # 51 was a nightmare of bad weather.

Styre weather finally improved, and on April 2, the 376th formation was the tail-end Charley in the long line of bomber formations. Our gunners added 3,000 rounds to our usual 50 caliber supply. The German fighter attack began as we entered the Udine Valley. On their first run, Lt. Breen's plane in B Flight caught fire and exploded. Four parachutes were observed. As we crossed the Alps, Capt. Vogler's plane lost power in two engines. Airspeed was reduced to keep them in the formation. Fighter attacks resumed and continued until we entered the "black cloud and flashing, bursting shells" of the bomb run. Every plane was damaged, but our bombs hit in the strike zone.

As we flew out of the black cloud, German fighters resumed their attack, concentrating on the cripple. On fire, Capt. Vogler's plane dropped and disappeared. The 2 hour battle ended over the Udine Valley when P-38's came to our rescue. We had only 4 rounds of ammunition left for the 10 machine guns. After the 9 hr, 5 min. mission, we counted over 2,000 bullet/flak holes in # 56. Best of all, none of us were wounded..

On April l2, we were briefed for the third time for an attack on the Me-109 factory at Wiener-Neustadt, Austria. For me, this mission was completely different from all five of my earlier trips over the Alps. En route, C-Flight leader, Capt. Roger Oldz, became ill and turned back. Now # 47 was the C-Flight leader, Ray Morel, pilot, George Crawford, copilot. An hour later, Ray moaned, collapsed and I was C-Flight leader. But, for the FIRST TIME, we had P-47 and P-38 escort ALL THE WAY. Not a single German fighter was spotted in any of the 3 zones. Not one of the Morel crew in # 47 was hit even though the flak was heavy.

Now lead bombardier Bill Neil dropped on target. Only Ray Morel moaned all the way home. As a reward (or punishment, your choice), I was checked out as first pilot and assigned the duty flying pilot with new crews on their first mission..

My mission # 33/34 started at 4:30 am as George Cloer and crew gathered at # 55. I was well impressed by the crew, T/Sgt. Wayne Schaffner, E; S/Sgt. Charles McKeague, RO; Sgt. William Trentzech, NG; Sgt. George Lee, WG; Sgt. Fredrick Pettit, BT; and Sgt. Donald Beck, TG. When they asked, "What can we expect?", I could only say that Munich, Germany, would not be an easy target. The flak over the target, the aircraft assembly plant for Me-4l0's and Do-217's, would be heavy and accurate. We could expect heavy attack from the over 400 German fighters stationed in the airfields in Italy, Austria and Germany.

We would fly through 3 German fighter zones flying north and the same 3 on the return flight, but if we had fighter escort, it could be like my April 12 mission. Based on my mission of April 2, I suggested adding as much 50 caliber ammunition as they could find. They added 3000 rounds to our normal ammunition allotment. With twelve 500 pound bombs, 2700 gallons of gasoline and the extra ammunition, we had a very heavy airplane.

At 5:00 am, Flame Magoon # 42, piloted by 2" Lt.. E. Seginack, began to rumble down the runway. In turn, 11 B-24's followed. As I poured on the "coal", our very sluggish B-24 began its take-off run. Slowly, too slowly, the overloaded plane reached air speed. We were off.

Joining the formation in our assigned place (the Breen spot of the April 2 mission), we began that hour of circling that never seemed to end. One plane dropped out and our Il ship section joined the long line of about 500 B-24's and we were on the long flight north over the Adriatic Sea to the Udine Valley.

As we crossed the coastline, the expected German fighter attack did not materialize. We had American fighter escort. Under P-51 and P-38 protection, we flew above the Alps, across Austria and into Germany. Since my younger brother, Fred, was flying a P-51 with the 52nd Fighter Group, I kept looking for his well marked P-51. He was flying in the area, but he was not part of our escort on this mission.

Target in sight, a huge black cloud filled with brilliant bursts of flame challenged us to enter the black air road to death. If the lead formation was on target, the aircraft assembly plant was dead ahead. Far below us, the ground disappeared as we flew over a layer of white clouds and into the black cloud. Our section's lead bombardier, Lt. M. Farquhar, was forced to change from his visual bomb sight to the PFF bad weather sight. His PFF was not working. Myrl would have to drop by guess, visibility zero, or order a 360 with no hope for being able to see the target.

We had been flying through intense, heavy, accurate flak for over ten minutes. Seginack and Farquhar made a very quick decision. They decided to drop. Most of us expected a second run. Since the lead plane had not opened its bomb doors, ours were closed. I was caught by surprise when suddenly # 42 opened its bomb doors and bombs dropped without the usual signal.

In order to have some semblance of formation bombing, a few pilots ordered their bombs dropped through closed bomb day doors. I ordered that our doors be opened first and so did most of the others. Bombs were streaming out of the formation in random fashion, far from the aircraft assembly plant. They were spread all over the countryside and into the city.

Just as Tom signaled "bombs away", the windshield literally exploded in front of my face. My right foot was hit and slammed against the throttle pedestal, knocked completely off the rudder. George started to take over the controls but I was OK and continued to fly our damaged ship. A crew check was made to determine the extent of the injuries and damage.

I was able to regain our position in the section as it began its turn and let down off the target. In quick succession, two more flak bursts hit our B-24 and # 3 engine burst into flames. George feathered the propeller as I cut the throttle and together we went through the emergency procedure. Slowly the flames flickered, then died. Still in formation, thanks to Seginack who kept the speed down in the shallow diving turn. But # 55 had been badly damaged. On three engines, we could stay in formation only the low speed of 145 mph. Visions of March 17 and April 2 now danced through my head. I prayed that Seginack would continue the slow descent.

Only George Lee, our waist gunner, reported a serious wound. He had been hit on the head and knocked out. He regained consciousness, very lucky to be alive with a very large lump and king-sized headache. All gunners were ordered back into their positions. Two pilots named George operated as a team to stay in the formation. But engine # 3 was definitely dead.

As we cleared the flak zone, 5 German fighters appeared. We were in tight formation. They looked us over, floated by, and sped to attack the next formation. The 513th rule of tight formation flying plus the timely appearance of American fighter planes had tipped the balance. The unlucky B-24's were spread out and were too far away to get help from the approaching P51s. One B-24 exploded as the Germans flew through their formation.

Isolated flak positions again and again sent their shells upward, reaching hungrily, exploding violently. Watching the flash of gun and shell, Seginack led our wounded section around the flak points. Knowing that we had two damaged planes, he kept the airspeed down at 145 mph and maintained a very shallow descent. The combination kept our formation intact and tight and we were the happy beneficiaries of his excellent leadership.

Slowly the Austrian valley began its climb to the north slope of the Alps. John kept us informed as to the bearing to take for Switzerland. All gunners were at their positions, ready if attacked. I asked John and Tom to come up out of the nose. John came to the cockpit, Tom to the waist. John and Wayne kept us fully informed as to position and condition.

Having lost our altitude advantage both from our slow descent and the up lift to the Alps, German cannon were firing at almost point blank range with deadly accuracy. We had lost the advantage of being able to maneuver after a cannon had fired and could no longer avoid cannon locations. Suddenly burst after burst exploded inside the formation. We now had even more damaged B-24's. All our cripples clung tenaciously to the formation and Seginack made every adjustment necessary to keep the cripples in formation.

We cleared the Alps and entered zone 1 (Italy) again. Sadly we watched our fighter escort fly homeward at fighter speed. They were low on gas and had to live to fight another day. I watched them go with a heavy heart for in the distance I could see a flight of German fighters racing toward us. All gunners were on alert and ready. It was a race to the coast. Our section could not increase its speed without leaving its cripples behind. Holding the same slow speed and gentle descent, Seginack pulled our formation even tighter and we prepared for attack.

Closing rapidly, the German fighters formed their attack line, coming straight in. Suddenly they wheeled and hit a nearby, very loose formation. Their attack was sudden and sure. Two B-24's fell before their blazing machine guns. The 450th Bomb Group had served as our "escort", the German fighters had chosen to hit their much more spread formation.

At last we were over water and safe from flak or fighter attack. Our section was now below 10,000 feet. Oxygen masks came off and we were breathing air and feeling a sense of "security". For the first time, all gunners could leave their turrets, John and Tom joined us on the flight deck. Wayne could now move freely through out the plane and we could find out the total damage. The hydraulic system was intact. We could lower the landing gear and use the brakes. The major damage was in the wings. We had a plane full of holes, but # 55 was flying home on three engines. The miracle was that only George Lee had a serious wound.

Minutes later,just as we began to relax, # 2 engine burst into flame. I struggled to keep the plane flying as I cut the power to # 2, George feathered it and we completed the emergency procedure. The flames flickered, flared up, then died. We all began to breathe again. On two engines we could not keep up. Ten B-24's looked back and down at us as we dropped our airspeed and began the trade off "of altitude for airspeed". We worked smoothly as a team, trimming, adjusting so that our badly wounded bird would yield a minimum amount of altitude to gain a maximum horizontal distance. We were a long way from home, over water, with the nearest land held by Germans.

Below us, the waves appeared to "lick their lips in anticipation" of our crash landing. The crew prepared for a water crash. Every possible item that could be dropped or thrown overboard entered the watery storage place below us. Incredibly, our gunners had not fired a single shot. All of our ammunition was jettisoned, especially that extra 3000 rounds.

John kept us constantly informed on our location and the shortest route to USA occupied terra firma. Charles contacted Bomber Command and maintained that contact so they would have our location ifa sea rescue was necessary. Not once had any member of the crew shown panic. With each blow, this crew reacted with both speed and calm. They were even laughing as they discussed what and how to lighten the load. And with each splash, the plane was lighter.

When we reached a point where we could turn inland and be over friendly territory, I decided to pass up the northern air fields. The crew agreed with shouts of "lets go home". Over land and flying, the crew prepared for a land crash landing. Still in the air, trading altitude for flying speed/distance, we agreed that "we would if we could" make it all the way back to San Pancrazio, 200 miles to the south. All eyes watched for possible land non-crash sites. Each check point was greeted with relief. I gave thanks for the very good weather.

Over an hour later, "San Pan" was in radio range. As we approached from the north, the 376th control tower instructed us to circle and land from the south. At this point I told the control tower exactly what I thought of that order. Even as the control operator's voice expressed disbelief that anyone would want to land a B-24 downwind, with a loud "bang", a puff of black smoke and a belch of fire, engine # 1 settled the issue. For the third time, two pilots, acting as one, had the throttle cut, the prop feathered and the fire out in record time.

With the field still miles ahead, I concentrated on the slow and difficult task of lining up with the runway. We were dropping rapidly with # 4 on full throttle. The crew buckled up for a crash landing. As they said later, they weren't worried about flying objects on impact, they had already thrown every loose item overboard.

I called for wheels down at the last possible moment and it seemed that three things occurred simultaneously. I heard Wayne's voice saying wheels down and locked, the thud of the wheel down position and the screech of rubber on dirt, all in the same instant. Straining with every fiber of mind and body, I greased it in 10 yards short of the runway. With a bounce, # 55 crossed from dirt to strip and we were rolling down the runway.. I softly tapped on the brakes, reasonably sure that they would work. On both sides, fire and emergency vehicles rushed to converge at our "final" resting spot, 8 1/4 hours after take off. We were safely home at last. All that was needed was a ride in the ambulance for George Lee, rides to the de-briefing room for the rest of us and a tow to the "sick bay" for # 55.

George W. Crawford