For saxman
Thanks for helping me out. I wish I had more accurate data on my stepfather. I am sure that what he told me of his "tour" in England was truthful. His photos were amazing and I am so sorry that they disappeared in the divorce. I didn't have the presence of mind to seek them out and capture them. I know the Warbirds would have relished every picture.
Your description of the sequence of events regarding the deployment of aircraft does confuse me, but I guess my memory has failed. I thought that he first flew in the Mosquitos, and then transitioned to the B-26 or A-20...I guess not.
He described the Mosquito as a very flimsy aircraft made of plywood and light weight materials. I haven't found a reference on the internet that confirms that. Do you have any input?
I noted that a lot of photos of the Jabos did not show the top turret guns. He was a gunner, so he must have been flying later than I thought. He did join the Army on Monday, December 8th...I remember that. He enlisted with many of his high school friends. At the time he was working for the telephone company in San Diego Ca as a lineman so the Army assigned him the same MOS - telephone lineman. After a short basic training in Florida, he was shipped to New Jersey to go to pole climbing school. Immediately after that he was put on a troop ship to England. Of course, when he arrived they had no need for lineman...what the Army needed was aircrews. Hence his stint in the Jabos
According to him, he flew from his arrival in England until shortly after D-Day when the number of viable targets begin to dissipate as the Germans moved further back and on into Germany. He also mentioned that a few of his friends were taken into the telephone school at New Jersey and arrived in England with him. He flew over 300 missions and at the end, all of his friends had been killed. He had pictures of them standing by their aircraft and I have no doubt that he was truthful in as much as his memory would allow.
He had colorful stories about the mixed crews that first flew in his squadron...Poles, Italians and Eastern Europeans that spoke almost no English. They were given a few weeks of gunnery training and then thrown into the planes along with Englishmen, Canadians, and Americans.
As the units became disestablished, he was sure that he was going back to the states...but no luck, He was impressed into the Red Ball convoys and spent the rest of the war carrying supplies to the front. He did say that being in Paris shortly after the liberation was some of the best days of his life. He didn't elucidate further, but I had an idea about what he meant.
He carved his squadron and group numbers into a large wooden propeller that hung in our living room forever. I'd give a large part of my life to have that momento. One thing that I do remember that he definitely used the 8th AF logo and not the 9th. That will be a puzzle I will never understand.
If you call me, please identify immediately who you are as we often ditch the hundreds of money-seekers that pester us every day. I'd love to talk with you about your own experiences or knowledge you have in this area.
I served in the Air Force from 1955 through 1959 with SAC. I worked on nuclear and thermonuclear weapons in the desert between White Sands and Biggs AFB near El Paso. I wanted to fly, but washed out due to my eyesight. Spent a few months in Germany. The closest I ever got to war was the Hungarian revolt in 1956. We were loaded and ready to go, but Ike never gave the word. I think that that was our country's biggest mistake. We had always been the lone Ranger on our White Stallion coming to the rescue. But we really dropped the ball. That, in my opinion was when America started losing face in the world. We wanted to go so baldy. Being youthful, we never gave a thought about the risk of getting killed or injured and were totally discouraged when we ordered to stay on the ground.
Years later, in the 80's fate had me meet a young girl from Hungary. She was a small child in 1956. She and her family escaped the returning Russians by crawling hundreds of yards under a barbed wire perimeter. She was beautiful, but her back was deeply scarred as a result of the experience. She spoke perfect English and had the demeanor of Princess Grace. One night after we had been dating for a few months we were at dinner in a very nice restaurant. She had one too many drinks and slowly became very sullen and quiet. Then, she put down her drink and came across the table at me screaming why didn't you come...why didn't you come.. and then burst into tears She said that everyone in her city knew we would come to their rescue., and when we didn't, they were devastated.
Thanks for taking the time to send me this info.
Richard (Dick) Walker Olympia WA 360-866-5590
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