I POINTED MY WAY TO FREEDOM!
By Staff Sergeant Francis Earl Anderson. 510th Squad., 351st Bomb Group, 8th Air Force
DECEMBER 31, 1943 - MISSION TO BORDEAUX-COGNAC
( The 351st lost seven aircraft that day, including 42-39823 TU-O. From this crew, three members evaded capture).
I was not too concerned when the Sergeant from operations came into our barracks and began walking down the aisle awakening crews. My crew had flown to Ludwigshaven the day before and we had not flown two consecutive days since my assignment to the 510th Squadron. But then the Sergeant stopped at the end of my cot and called for Lt. M.H. Bender's crew. I was his flight engineer. There were about 36 other enlisted men in this open bay type barracks and by looking at the activity of the others, it looked like we were all going on the mission.
It was Friday, December 31, 1943 and as I dressed, I realized that I was still "bushed" from the trip to Ludwigshaven. We flew 8 hours after the flight for debriefing, cleaning your guns and getting to "chow", it makes a long day. Even for a 19 year old, you don't make it to the pubs in Peterbourgh after that kind of a trip.
It was about 0430 when I left my barracks. It was cold, dark, and damp with a clear sky. While walking to our mess hall, I concluded that it was always cold, dark, and wet at Polebrook at 0400 on New Year's Eve. We had good food in our mess at Air Force Station 110 and when you scheduled to fly you ate a full meal as there were never any lunch breaks on these trips and coffee or tea was not served enroute.
It was about 0530 when the air crews assembled in the briefing room. When the curtains were pulled, the flight map showed that we were going to Southern France to bomb an airfield at Bordeaux or Cognac. Our group C.O. Col. William Hatcher thought that it would be a "milk run" and would be a good way to end the year. From the map, I could see that it was going to be a long day and that just wasn't the way I had planned my New Year's Eve. My Colonel and the Air Force planners did not know it, but I had been doing quite well in the field of foreign relations in the city of Peterborough and Market Deeping. The English lass that I was dating was a member of the W.A.A.F. stationed at Market Deeping. We had planned to attend a party at her billet with a stop at Aunt Flo and Uncle Charlie Pollard's place at 55 Orchard Street in Peterborough for dinner with some pub "hopping" in between. It would be a day of "cheers" all around. I was eager to complete my 25 and rotate to the States, but I also thought that we should fight the war on two fronts.
Our briefing over, we filed out of the briefing room, boarded our waiting trucks, and proceeded to the gun shop and loaded our 13 50 cal machine guns. Then on to tech supply for our flying gear. This consisted of : parachute, helmet, "Mae West", oxygen mask, electrically heated suit, gloves, and escape kit. We did not carry any personnel weapons. we had a choice of foot gear. You could wear the electrically heated boots with the sheep's wool boots, or the regular "GI" leather high top shoes with the wool boots. If you did not wear the leather high top, it was recommended that you carry these with you in case you had to "bail out". Good walking shoes were difficult to obtain in the occupied countries. We wore our "GI" dog tags for identification. I decided on wearing cotton underwear under my wool shirt and pants. I then put on an electrically heated flying suit and then my flying coveralls. I also decided to go with my double sole wool socks, my leather high top shoes with the sheep's wool boots. It was a good decision.
After arriving at our plane, we installed our guns and the Norden bombsight while the pilots inspected our aircraft. Our bomb load is 12 500 lb bombs. It is about 0630 when we see the green flare go up from the control tower which is the signal to start engines. Lt. Bender and our co-pilot Lt. Grupp proceed to "fire-up" the four Wright cyclones in our B-17G.
My turret is in the top of the plane just behind the flight deck and when I'm not in the turret, I stand between and just behind the pilots. After our engines warm up, we taxi out in our turn and follow the plane ahead to the end of the runway. We stop and Lt. Bender proceeds to run up each engine for a power check. Everything checks okay, so we follow the plane ahead on to the runway. The plane ahead disappears into the early morning darkness, and 30 seconds later we start to our takeoff roll.
At this time in the trip, I am an extra pair of hands and eyes for the pilots. I monitor the engine instruments on take off. Our ole "G" gets her tail up at about 75-80 mph and in a few seconds she begins to get light on her wheels and Oleo struts as the lift of the wings begin to take on the weight of our bomber. We have 2800 gallons of fuel, and our gross weight is about 65,000 lbs at this time. Lt. Bender is making an instrument take off and at about 100-110 mph and with a little back pressure on the control wheel, our B17G lifts off. The co-pilot moves the lever that applies a little brake pressure to stop the wheels from rotating as the high rpm of the wheels is causing vibrations throughout the plane.
The four Wrights are producing full power and all of the gauge needles are in the right place with everything in the green. The pilots start changing the power settings from full power to climbing power, 2300 rpm, and 38 inches of manifold pressure. We also begin a climbing turn to the left so that we will overtake the planes ahead. This is a critical time. There could be other planes taking off from nearby bases as we are part of the 94th Air Wing. Everyone is "eye balling" the sky for other planes as most mid air collisions are nasty affairs with low survival rate.
There is twilight in the east but as we make our turn into the darkness of the western sky, the planes ahead seem to disappear and this plays tricks with your depth perception. Don't overtake the plane ahead too fast, and stay out of the "Prop Wash". Prop Wash is very severe air turbulence and when a plane like the B-17 , which has all four propellers turning in the same direction flies into this, it tends to roll into inverted flight and requires quick action by pilot and sometimes both pilots to correct this situation. Needless to say, rolls and inverted flight were not recommended for the B-17. These maneuvers not only "pop" wing skin rivets, but make crews extremely nervous. By this time, I have had a report from our tail gunner, Sgt L. R. Anderson, that our tail wheel has retracted. Our waist gunners, Sgt H. Long and Sgt V. Koski, report that the wings are clean with no siphoning of gas from our tanks. The forward bomb bay door is next to my turret, so I inspect our bomb load again.
We overtake the planes ahead and Lt. Bender moves into our formation position. We are flying in the second element of the lead squadron. Our group C.O. and squadron C.O. are flying the lead plane. My pilots adjust the power settings for cruising and lean out the fuel adjustment for the best fuel consumption. It's the beginning of a long flight. Our plane is operating perfectly and I think about how well the ground crew have done their job and I hope that we can return their plane to them this afternoon in good condition.
In about two hours, we leave the southeast coast of England and our formation of 34 planes continues to climb up through the 10,000 foot altitude level. It is time to go on oxygen so I leave my pilots and take position in the top gun turret. It is standing room only and I cannot wear flak helmet or vest. I have my parachute harness on but my chest pack type chute is on the flight deck. I check my oxygen supply and test fire my two 50 cal. guns. I set the wing span setting of my gun sight for 32 feet.
We top out at about 12,000 ft altitude, and the sky is clear. In about two hours of flying we are around the top of Brittany and over the Bay of Biscay. Our navigator tells us we are about to cross the coast of France. The plan is to dash in a few miles, bomb an airfield, and then dash out again. The excitement is high and the adrenalin begins to flow. You lose all sense of time. Shortly after passing the coast, we were informed that we are passing up the air field at Bordeaux because of the dense cloud cover over the target. Our group will proceed north to the secondary target at Cognac.
About this time, we begin to have some enemy fighter attacks. These are diving attacks from above with their backs to the sun. Tracking them with my turret is difficult. Then I see the other planes open their bomb bay doors and we are beginning our bomb run. The Germans know that we have to fly very straight and level for several minutes before dropping our bombs and this is the time that they can do all their tracking for their anti-aircraft guns. Their tracking is damn good today.
In the distance ahead, I can see the bursting anti-aircraft shells. The black "puffs" are so thick that it looks like a cloud that is exactly at our altitude of about 12,000 feet. In another 30 seconds, our formation is flying into this highly concentrated fire. The black puffs with the fireball in the center are bursting on all sides, above and below. It's the worst that I have ever seen. In seconds, I begin to hear the exploding shells above the roar of our engines and the explosions can not be more than 30 or 40 feet away. I begin the very defenseless act of dodging these bursts by lowering my head down below the steel rim of my gun turret. Our bombardier, Lt. R.B. Wilcox, reports that he has been hit by a piece of shell fragment, but that it is not serious.
Enemy fighters do not attack at this time. It is an unfair fight. The Germans can see from two miles below, but we can not see them. My two 50 Cal. guns are useless.
Our formation has become ragged, but this is not a reflection on our pilots. They have already been flying formation for several hours and when the anti-aircraft fire begins, it brings stress and tension to the highest. For a few moments it seems to affect their coordination of the controls and they lose some of the delicate touch of the throttle that is needed when flying good tight formation. At one time one of our planes is directly over us and I can see the 500 lb bombs in the bomb bay about 80 feet away. In a few more seconds, our pilots seem to overcome this threat of destruction and death in the sky over France, and return to flying good formation. We are getting beaten up by the Germans, then its bombs away. I leave my turret and check the bomb bay to be sure that all of the bombs are out. When I return to my turret, I can see planes with smoking engines and our group commander has trouble but is still leading the group.
For us it is one big "wham". We have taken a hit under our right wing and our number three engine begins to lose power and smoke. Our ball turret gunner reports a fire under our right wing. We lose our place in the formation as our pilot instructs us over the intercom to stand by to abandon the aircraft. When I stepped down to the flight deck, the pilots are desperately trying to stop the number three engine. Stopping the engine may also stop the fire. The engine stops running but the propeller continues to rotate. They have tried to "feather" the blades, that is turn them into the slip stream, so that they will not rotate. This requires engine oil pressure and apparently there is not enough so the low rpm of the prop produces drag and vibrates our plane. Whatever was burning seems to have gone out. When the smoke clears from number three engine, we can see fuel flowing from the trailing edge of the right wing. The number four engine is running rough. Lt. Bender begins to talk to our navigator, Lt H.O. Freeman, about our position, distances, fuel consumption and routes to England. It is not good. We are down to about 8,000 ft altitude. I return to my turret and begin searching the sky above for enemy fighters, as they love to attack straggling B-17's.
Fuel is still flowing from our right wing, and I can see the coast of France in the distance. Minutes pass and then our pilot informs us that he does not think that we can make it back to our base in England some 600 miles over the Atlantic and that we should abandon the aircraft before reaching the coast. I left the aircraft through the open bomb bay. The crew members in the rear section of the plane came forward and also jumped through the bomb bay. I made a head count to be sure that everyone in the rear section got out.