Birth of A Combat Crew

By Joseph Taddonio - Radio Operator - M.C Serafin Crew 515th Squadron

The date was in April 1943 - the place Davis-Monthan Air Base, Tucson, Az.:

As we unloaded from the truck at our barracks fresh from the railroad station, a plane roared on the other side of the barracks-but we couldn't see it. Suddenly a HUGE figure rose above the building - what the hell was that? We had trained for Fortresses and/or B-25's and B-26's! As we followed it, IT suddenly dipped down and disappeared only to be replaced with a rising cloud of smoke! A couple of the new arrivals threw their bags back into the truck with "Forget it. I'm not flying in one of THOSE."

Time heals(?) and so I was assigned to a crew that I met at breakfast for my first flight in a B-24 LIBERATOR (model C or D). The waist guns had cans of 20 rounds of ammo!! The pilot , Lt. M.C.Serafin, asked if I liked eggs for breakfast, as I was eating a couple - so they gave me a few more.

The flight was an altitude flight and I was on the flight deck when I started to cramp up and as I lifted my 'cheeks' up to pass the gas, the pilot and others were all laughing at my discomfort. "That'll teach you not to eat eggs on an altitude flight." Maybe that's why we had powdered eggs overseas???

Combat training consisted of 3 phases - 1 month each. First phase training was at Tucson. The pilot learned to fly a B-24 and we sweated out every take-off and landing!

On May 30,1943 we left for the second phase - at Salinas, California for over water navigation, etc.. There was only one hill around but somehow a plane hit it and one more was lost at sea. Tents were our quarters. The place was damp and always with a heavy morning mist - so back on the trains to Biggs Field, El Paso, Texas where we spent the next two months for phase 2 and 3 of our combat training.

The crew jelled into a working unit - so we left Texas in early August for Salina, Kansas to pick up a plane and leave for 'who knows where' ! The crew flew to Shreveport, Louisiana, for a brief over water flight for navigation test and with the arrival of a plane from Willow Run, we met our new PINK B-24-E (a B-24-D with a ball turret) and guns still wrapped in paper. My records show we were part of the Barnard Provisional Group and left heading east for the Atlantic and Egypt via the northern route. After a brief - but eventful - stop at Pittsburgh (Lt. Serafin, our pilot, came from Oil City, Penna. - now Pa.) we buzzed the town and country-side, partial flaps so that traffic stopped to watch this PINK formidable, huge. state-of- the-art aircraft - (?) at tree-top level do it's thing! His folks were on the front porch waving us on - so we left for Bangor, Maine expecting to stay the night but were gassed up and kicked out before orders to hold that plane that created havoc over Penna were activated. We next arrived at Goose Bay, Labrador, in the middle of the dark wilderness with other planes, parked out at the edge of the WOODS. Guess who had guard duty? A kid who had never been NEAR such a place with animals he was sure he heard with every creak and snap of a twig - and those eyes, he swore he saw, were sizing him up for a meal! But I was a smart kid - who went IN the plane, closed the bomb-bays, put-put running, and sat in the top turret with two 50 caliber machine guns ready for anything that attacked - Germans, OR animals! On to Iceland and (could never spell that name let alone pronounce it) - Reckojavic (?) was our next overnight stop that the navigator hit on the nose - but only three or four long minutes off his ETA so that the runway landing lights were a welcome sight to see in the closing darkness!!

Heading for Prestwick,Scotland on radio silence, we picked up our call sign for a message - at 35 w.p.m.! After two hours and two 16 wpm radiomen, the message was deciphered into ' do not go over ten thousand feet due to ice forming possibilities!' After haircuts - almost bald - we flew down to the Lands End area of England, Newquay, pronounced 'nookie' - but even though we stayed a few days due to a supercharger problem - none could be found!

Loaded now with real ammunition, off we went around France (alerted to German fighter interception) and Spain, we landed at Marrakech, Morocco. That was a view with it's red clay or brick walls AND our first sight of strange Arabs with their clothes, etc.. Sure glad we had those 45 caliber automatics!! We slept in the plane and moved on to Algiers, the so-called WHITE CITY of North Africa for an overnight stop. Here I met a hometown soldier at the Red Cross club but with no quarters in town, we stayed out at Maison Blanche airfield. Refusal to feed us without our mess kits brought Lt Serafin to the supply room for 6 mess kits "charge to the Second Airforce".

Next day's flight to Castel Benito airfield at Tripoli, Libya, a British base where we were introduced to tea, porridge and kippers. We were treated royally - I believe due to our PINK Liberator. It meant something to them - a Wellington outfit - so we had gin and orange juice-and the red sand (dust) of the Sahara. Next stop - but not final was an erroneous landing at the civilian airfield in Cairo, Egypt with a very short runway which led to a hairy exit take-off - full throttle, brakes fixed - everyone back in the tail - wheels up as soon as possible to not clip the trees at the end of the runway - and to a correct landing at Heliopoulis. Into Cairo to the Shepard's Hotel and the Ninth Bomber Command Hdqters for orders to Ishmalia, Egypt, and Devershaw (British) airbase where the plane was stripped of it's armor plate in the waist, the de-icer boots were altered (?), all turrets and guns loaded with ammo, the baggage racks removed - and thus - all ready for combat. Back to Bengasi, Libya was our orders - but we first flew to the pyramids at Gisa and flew down and over them - first clockwise and then counterclockwise so all had a good view. The flight back over the desert was past El Alhamein where the desert was littered with destroyed trucks, tanks, guns, etc as far as the eye could see from 5000 feet. Thought I'd sure like to get the scrap metal concession for that place! Finally we arrived at our HOME - Berka-2 , Benghazi, Libya!

Although I wasn't at Benghazi very long, it was my first overseas base and where I began flying combat missions. The 98th BG was at Berka-1 with the hangar, buildings and cement runway. The 376th BG was at Berka-2 out on the edge of the Sahara Desert where the road to Tripoli ran past. We were closer to the harbor - with the bottom of the ship showing above the water where it had been sunk. Across the road was a Canadian RCAF Wimpy (Wellington) outfit that flew night missions.

We slept in British India cotton fabric tents, white and 'Gunga Din' type which came in two parts - the tent and another cover over it for shade but if it rained - as it did later in Tunisia - it was waterproof - UNLESS YOU TOUCHED IT. Then it leaked like a sieve! Three to a tent - at least for enlisted personnel.

Back to Benghazi- Recalling the honey bees that managed to get to the mess kit food before you and you'd have to seep them off and quickly grab a mouthful of food - Phit-too - not fast enough! Oh well, just spit that bee out!

Hey, and the latrine closed in with the 5 gallon square cans for walls and privacy while sitting on the coal scuttle type pail with the outhouse seat over it. Then there was the "honey bucket" detail of PW's that came each morning to empty the pails! They were PW's (british stockade) not POW's.

And the NAAFI (RED Cross type) vans that met us with donuts and tea on our return from missions. The runway was made of metal strips that radiated such heat that the planes would often refuse to come down and hydra-plane on the heat waves. That was a feeling jumping up and down to make the plane sink!

On the road in to town was the bomb dump - the Italians started it and when the Brits pushed them out, the Brits didn't touch the ammo for fear of booby traps - so just built their own dump next to it. The Jerries came and pushed the Brits out and built their dump next to the Brit's dump for the same reason. Then the brits returned and left all that ammo lay there for fear of traps!

Oh yes, the sandstorms - only went through one - but had everything tied down and covered. In the barracks bag, I had a leather shaving kit all zippered up amongst clothing. When I unzipped it I had to clean out desert sand! It wasn't sand really, it was more like red dust!

Joe Taddonio