10 June 1944
27 FS, 1 FG, 306 BW, 15 AF
Foggia #3 (Salsola A/F), Foggia Airfield Complex, Italy
0525
The last plane vanished in the late pre-dawn light and the airfield was silent.
For the men left on the ground at Salsola Airfield—one of many within a small radius of Foggia in south-eastern Italy—that meant it was time to get back to the hard work of keeping a Fighter Group operational.
Technician Fifth Grade Art Henry had watched forty-eight P-38s leave the airfield. Sixteen were from the 27th Squadron leaving only a couple of flyable spares at the airfield and a few more which were under repair or undergoing scheduled maintenance. As a 27th Squadron Metal Worker his first duty was to make sure all of the squadron assigned aircraft were repaired, then to move on through the other squadrons of the Group to see if they needed help, so he set out to see what work needed doing.
The metal workers were usually most busy the night and day after a mission, when their airplanes would come back in need of fresh repair, or the through the night immediately before a mission when the Group was clamoring to meet its assigned quota for the following day. While the planes were out, however, most of the Group metal workers found themselves without too much to do. Planes on the line which had been kept from flying were usually in need of mechanical or power plant repair rather than airframe repair and those which still needed airframe repair were larger jobs sent over to the Sub Depot of the 62nd Service Group attached to the 1st FG.
It was not long before he came across one of the senior metal workers in the Squadron, the “Old Man” of the Squadron in fact, T/4 Bill Waddell. Waddell was a veteran of the First War, having served with the 130th Field Artillery out of Kansas, and was now here for his Second War. Too old to trudge the mud with the young Infantry-and-Artillerymen, his skills working aluminum for Beech, Cessna, and Stearman in the Travel Air Company and its successors had earned him a fast track into the Army Air Forces. He had been with the 27th since its first trip to England in summer of ’42 and had stayed with them all through Libya, Tunisia, and now Italy. In fact, one of the 27th’s first Aces was flying Bill’s plane over the Mediterranean when he gained his kills, an at-the-time new P-38G affectionately named “Shoot...You’re Faded” and baring the Squadron code “HV-S” which had always marked Bill’s planes prior to his move from T/3 Felix Pasteris’s crew to the Squadron Sheet Metal and Welding crew.
Art found Waddell with his small welding goggles in place, a rod in one hand and torch in the other, bent over a piece of metal on a barrel. At first, he thought Bill was using the barrel as a makeshift work bench but he soon realized that Bill was actually welding the metal to the barrel itself.
Once Bill straightened up from his task, Art gained his attention and asked, “What are you working on, Bill?”
“Ah, Rum holed the tank on our run-about so I’m replacing it.” Rum Fannin was one of Bill’s near constant companions and together with Johnny Clark were something of the Three Musketeers of the 27th Ground Crews. “Your plane out today?”
“Yeah,” Art considered, “you have any idea where they’re heading?”
“Heard they are going back to Rumania for another go at it.”
“Oh, that’s not so bad.” The 1st Fighter Group had provided escort for some B-24s to Romania back in May and even when the Liberators failed to show up the 1st pressed on in defense of the B-17s that were also on the way. At the end of the day they had downed over 20 enemy aircraft and had not lost a single of their own nor any of the Fortresses. If today was anything like that, then Art knew there was little to worry about, at least no more than is usual.
When the pilots borrow their planes for a mission, the ground crews are constantly abuzz. They keep themselves busy with anything they can to get their minds off of what may be happening “up there.” Their worst days were the previous August when the Group had averaged nearly a plane lost per day for most of the month. After that things quieted down as the Invasions of Sicily, Sardinia, and Italy gained traction and allowed the 1st to take a much needed rest and reorganization. This is when Art Henry came to the 27th Squadron, just in time to help move the Group to Sardinia in October, then to Giola del Colle, Italy in December, before finally settling into Salsola in January. Around the same time they were moving from Africa, increased pressure from England diverted more and more of the Luftwaffe away from the Mediterranean, leaving the 1st Fighter Group Pilots in control of the skies over the Italian Peninsula.
Not that every day was quiet or full of victory. The occasional plane or two would fail to return, leaving another skilled pilot MIA. The worst day for the 27th since Art’s arrival was May 7th when the pilots were sent to escort B-26s on a raid to a Bavarian airfield, just south of Augsburg. The mission was unusual because the 42nd Bomb Wing was unassociated with the 1st Fighter Group and they were flying from opposite sides of the theatre, with the bombers coming from Sardinia and the Escorts flying up from Foggia. They met over northern Italy, each having arrived from a route up their respective coasts, before crossing the Alps into Austria and on to Bavaria. Word was it was a high value target that needed an immediate, precision strike and it was just at the edge of, or beyond, the 12 AF’s P-47s’ range.
The Group sortied 53 airplanes from all three Squadrons on that day, 18 from the 27th, had six early returns, and seven which failed to return at all. The pilots who flew the entire mission, many of them replacement pilots to make up for those rotated back to the States, said they had never encountered such fierce opposition. They talked of swarms of Focke-Wulfs and Messerschmitts from Munich and Augsburg, several Groups worth, bearing down on the bombers and trying to separate the escorts. It was all they could do react as best they could and try their damnedest to stay in contact with their bomb-laden wards. They ended up claiming 17-1-4 enemy aircraft, so they gave better than they got but it was tough day for the Group.
Compared to that, the Rumanian Oil Fields should be easy.
Bill examined his weld as it cooled and must have found some imperfection, so he pulled his goggles back down over his eyes and increased the gas flow on the torch to take care of it. Art looked away, glancing over the field to see many crew working on different little projects. Some were working on their airplanes, Lightnings which could not be sortied that day due to some malfunction or other maintenance need. Others were idling their time away with personal projects, like Bill, or taking care of the myriad other tasks that needed doing to keep the Group running on a daily basis.
“Well, don’t just stand around doing nothing,” Bill was done with his weld and turned off the gas to his torch, “come give me a hand with this.”
Art helped Bill man-handle the makeshift steel fuel tank the few yards over to the runabout. The car—if it could be called such—was little more than an open ladder frame chassis of welded steel with all of the workings exposed and bolted or welded on wherever they would fit. Most of the parts were nearly unidentifiable but Art assumed they must have come from some local derelict. There was no suspension to speak of, instead the wheels and axels were more akin to the bogies off an old bomb trailer. The engine sat fully exposed at the front, the entire machine devoid of anything resembling a body or fenders. The steering column was likewise exposed, from the skinny two-spoke wheel to the rack beneath the engine. There were not even seats, instead a simple plywood platform stretched across the rear of the frame with nothing more than a cloth pad for the driver.
The new fuel tank mounted on a platform at the extreme front of the runabout, in front of the engine. It was no wonder to Art that the previous tank was ruined, with it out front like that it was the only bumper the vehicle had. He set about helping Bill lift it on to its platform and bolt the mounting brackets in place, leaving Bill the task of getting the lines and everything else properly connected.
That is when he heard the drone of approaching airplanes.
Two P-38s were coming in from the North. A couple early aborts, from the timing of things. One had the right propeller stopped and feathered having returned on the lone left engine. The other was flying fine and sounded good from what Art could tell so he assumed it must have been sent to escort the other back. As they landed, one at a time, many of the Ground Crewmen, Art included, watched closely for the squadron number to see if either were “their” airplanes. Both bore the yellow aft-booms of the 94th, so Art went back to helping Bill Waddell with the runabout.
Over the next twenty minutes, or so, five more Aborts came back. Two with the black booms of the 71st Squadron and the other three were planes of the 27th with their red booms. Seven early aborts out of forty-eight was a little higher than anyone liked to see but also not unusual considering how often and how hard these aircraft were flown.
The improved sortie rate and number “Over Target” of late was helped along by having received new airplanes in the early weeks of spring. Until then the Squadrons of the 1st Fighter Group had been flying progressively more worn down aircraft received when still fighting in Tunisia with a handful, mostly relegated to parts-planes by the end, being veterans of Operation Flax. Beginning at the end of March these old planes were replaced with new, un-painted, H-20s.
The ground crew were surprised to discover these new airplanes came with some new maintenance appendices covering systems which were completely new and unexpected. The Army sent a lone, junior, Lockheed engineer with the planes for a one-week stay to give everyone a quick familiarization course on the new equipment before moving on to the 82nd and 14th Fighter Groups to do the same.
The only official difference between the Block-20 airplanes and the Block-15 and 18 airplanes which had trickled in as replacements late the previous autumn and through the winter was that the battery had been moved from the aft-left boom to a space directly behind the cockpit, atop the hydraulic reservoirs. Otherwise, the new airplanes shared the more powerful B-33 turbos and leading edge landing light of the Block-15s with the automatic intercooler intake shutters of the Block-18s. The reason for all the fuss was not because of the change in battery installation by the factory but rather because of what was added at the Modification Centers before the planes were packed for shipping.
These particular Block-20 aircraft were equipped with a new hydraulically activated aileron system, which Lockheed called “boosters.”
Art remembered some of the pilots expressing doubts about the new equipment, worrying over the added complexity and having more systems which could fail. These doubts were quickly left by the wayside after the pilots first started experiencing the improvements. So much, so, in fact that the pilots who were still flying older Block-18 airplanes and the early, un-modified, Block-20s started to beg for the aileron boosters to be added to their airplanes. Some of the more enterprising Crew Chiefs were able to cobble together enough full booster systems from the replacement parts sent with the shipment to accommodate their pilots but the shortage of parts left most of them without the added equipment.
Operationally, the new airplanes were a decided improvement over the old. Evidence from their missions since receiving the new aircraft implied that most of the Group’s losses were concentrated in the older airplanes, which the pilots anecdotally attributed directly to the improved maneuverability provided by the boosted ailerons allowing those in the modified airplanes to make it home with greater assurance than those in the un-modified planes.
0640
With the new fuel tank finally installed on Bill’s runabout and partially filled with the aid of a jerry can of 87 octane, the two of them took it out for a test drive around the airfield under the guise of checking on the early returns from the squadron to see if they needed any additional help.
Art sat next to Bill on the plywood “floor” of the runabout, holding on to whatever bit of exposed frame he could find to avoid being jostled off as the machine bounced over the rough ground. The little engine puttered like a motorbike, throwing a cloud of grey smoke from the short exhausts, and for anyone not accustomed to the roar of aircraft engines it would seem deafening. It was not a very fast machine but it worked and was certainly faster, if somewhat less comfortable, than walking down the flight line.
Their first stop was at the recently returned #9, the pilot already busy explaining trouble to his ground crew.
“…pressure on the right engine dropped and I couldn’t get it back up.”
“You try re-starting?”
“Yes. Pressure never came up after the restart so I shut it down again and came home.”
“Ok, Lieutenant, we’ll check her out.” The Crew Chief turned to Bill and Art where they sat with the runabout idling. “Waddell.”
“Mackenzie,” Bill acknowledged the Chief. “Oil trouble?”
“Sounds like. You just idling around today?”
“Naw, testing the new fuel tank on the runabout here. Corporal Henry and I thought we’d make the rounds to see if anyone needs an extra hand or two.”
“Thanks for checking, but I think we’re good here. You may want to check with Sergeant Henderson at the Depot, I heard he’s having trouble with a wing.”
“Will do.” Bill put the runabout back in gear and accelerated down the line, heading to T/Sgt. Henderson’s #4 airplane.
0855
Art had spent most of the morning with Bill Waddell. They helped Technical Sergeant Al Henderson get a new outer left wing ready for an airplane. The new wing was scavenged from Lieutenant Janci’s plane from the 71st Squadron, which had struck its tail on take-off a month ago and crashed forward off the runway.
The original wing had taken some pretty extensive damage from a flak burst. There was a large, 8-9 inch hole torn through it which was surrounded by several dozen smaller tears in the skin. Unlike some older airplanes, the P-38 was built with stressed skin formed of multiple layers. The outer layer was the smooth aluminum finish, while the inner layer provided strength and load transference by means of span-wise 24ST corrugations. This meant that “patching” a hole usually involved replacing an entire structural panel instead of just cutting off the jagged edges and riveting a new sheet over it. In this case, however, the damage was so extensive that even the main spar of the outer wing had been partially damaged and a simple panel replacement was not an option.
The outer-wing assembly was designed to be replaceable and was secured to the main beam just outboard of the forward booms by multi-fingered pin joints. The receiving end of the joints was integral with the main spar beam box and made of extruded Alclad 14ST while on the outer wing spar additional strength was provided by using steel forgings. This was further strengthened by steel bolts anchoring the rear sheer beam of the outer wings to the booms just forward of the flaps and a large engine mounting bolt at the front where it gained rigidity at the nacelle. Removable panels and filleting allowed access to these joints and all of the separation points for the control cables, fuel lines, electrical leads, and hydraulic lines, making the prospect a changing a wing a relatively simple affair. In theory, anyway.
Henderson’s headache came about due to damage sustained from the donor airplane’s crash.
The pin joints were bent, with the leading ring partially torn; the leading edge was partially collapsed from hitting some fence posts, which also ruined the leading edge fuel cell; and, the wingtip was like wise damaged.
The latter two issues were easily solved by replacing the leading edge and wing-tip sub-assemblies on the donor wing with the undamaged sub-assemblies of the original wing and Henderson had his crew working on it even before Waddell and Henry arrived.
The leading edge was replaced first, with its integral fuel cell, after it was checked over to ensure the fuel cell was intact and the assembly structurally sound. It connected to the main spar by a total of 58 steel bolts along its span, four at each hydro-pressed 24ST chord-wise rib—two upper screws and two lower—and six screws—three upper, three lower—at the final outer-wing cap where the tip connects. The outer Alclad skin of the leading edge overlaps the main the spar and is secured down by hundreds of small screws spaced about one inch apart and recessed to produce a smooth surface. The leading edge itself is essentially an empty box filled almost entirely by the fuel cell, without any structural ribs apart from the anchor points where it attaches to the main spar. Instead it gains its strength from chord-wise corrugations on the inner surface and its multi-part construction of top and lower portions joined at the leading edge by a piano hinge and capped on either end by stamped aluminum panels.
Art jumped in to help them man-handle the fourteen-and-a-half foot span sub-assembly while others in the crew started putting enough connecting screws in place to hold it well enough so they could finish the work.
Meanwhile, Bill Waddell and Al Henderson worked together to solve the issue of the damaged pin-joints on the replacement wing. Bill finally came up with a solution to cut the damaged fittings off, cut the good fittings off of the old wing, and weld those onto the replacement wing with two thin pieces of scavenged steel welded on either side of the seam to give the repair more strength.
The work took a few hours before Waddell and Henderson were satisfied with the results. They hit the repaired section with a coat of Zinc Chromate to keep it sealed from the elements and judged it done around the same time the rest of the crew were done testing the electricals for the position lights and landing light on the replaced wing tip and leading edge. All that was left was to let the paint cure and Henderson’s crew could manage the rest of the installation from there.
After that, Bill went to go find Rum Fannin and Johnny Clark, while Art went to scrounge a small bit to eat and—having only gotten five hours of sleep in the past 48 as he was working to get planes ready—sneak in a short nap. Checking his watch he figured that the sortied Group must be somewhere near their target by now facing anti-aircraft from the ground and enemy fighters in the air. It would take them a few more hours to get back to Italy and as he drifted off Art could only say a silent prayer to whomever may be listening that they come back safely.
1005
T/5 Art Henry woke to the puttering tear of small engines speeding past the tent. He knew the sound without even looking: some of the crews in the Group would occasionally race their little runabouts. Unlike Bill Waddell’s larger and more practical ride, however, these were little one-man affairs with small motor-bike engines and simple carriages built on holed, damaged, or otherwise worn out drop-tanks.
Taking the noise as his cue and confirming with a glance at his watch that he had rested long enough, Art swung his feet off his cot and slipped them back into his work boots. Ducking out from the low tent-flap, he stretched his arms up and worked the seemingly ever-present kink out of his back under the warm Italian sun before sliding them back into the sleeves of his green overalls.
With a lit Chesterfield between his lips—a little something to chase away the grogginess of his nap—he walked down the 27th Squadron flight line to see what work needed doing. He passed by Mackenzie and his crew still working on #9 to find the problem for the loss of oil pressure but there was no metal work that needed doing there so he continued on.
A few places farther down the line was airplane #16 with a temporary canopy stretched over it on a few improvised poles. Both engines were exposed, the covers open and all the access panels removed, while the crew worked on them. The chief, T/3 Felix Pasteris, was up on a ladder over the right engine next to another crew member pointing to some component and explaining what the younger crew member needed to do with it.
“No. Look. This lead for the Three-R Exhaust plug is starting to scorch, you can’t just ignore that. Go down to Supply and get a new one then come back and do it right. Then, take off the exhaust manifold, check the gasket and look at the Three-R exhaust port. If the Ignition lead is scorching, we may have a leak.” He clambered down the ladder, shaking his head.
“Sergeant.” Art called over to get the Crew Chief’s attention, “any metal work you need?”
“Corporal Henry. Not just now. We’re running the fifty-hour maintenance on her so everything is pretty well set.” The fifty-hour check on the Allison engines was a standard scheduled maintenance item and usually not overly involved from Art’s understanding, even if it was a bit tedious.
The Allison V-1710 was a big twelve cylinder, liquid cooled, “V” engine which use two spark-plugs per cylinder. This meant that every time the plugs needed inspections—after every five hours of running time, or after nearly every combat mission—or whenever they needed to be replaced the crews would have to check 24 plugs per engine, or 48 for the entire P-38.
Then there were two distributors which needed to be checked and timed for each engine; and, two magnetos per engine. After than was an inspection of the ignition leads, intake and exhaust manifolds, and carburetors. The engine driven supercharger would need to be examined together with the automatic manifold pressure regulator. Plus, the cooling system, including the wing-mounted radiators, needed to be thoroughly checked for leaks and wear; as well as the Oil system which also included several oil filters and screens which needed to be checked and cleaned.
Finally, the turbo-superchargers, air filter, and entire induction system needed to be checked over. This was, from what Art had heard the mechanics talk about, the most difficult part as they needed to disassemble a good portion of the nacelle and forward boom to gain sufficient access to the ductwork to check all of the seams and joints for any leaks and ensure everything was as tight as possible.
In all, the 50 Hour Maintenance usually grounded a plane for at least a few days. During that time, it was not unusual for the crews to work on other parts of the plane to fine tune its handling and performance according to the Pilot’s wishes. Which is why, 20 minutes later, Art found himself in the Machine Shop.
As with most other “buildings” at Salsola, the Machine Shop was little more than a glorified tent. In this case, it was a wood framed Quonset type structure with canvas sheathing for walls.
Inside, assaulted by the chemical smells of burning metals and oils, he found a few of the other Sheet Metal Workers from the group working on various projects. Two 94th men were working a large aluminum panel through the English Wheel, smoothing its contours so it will fit as a right-side armament door, while behind them another man was working on riveting a long piano hinge to the top of the nearly complete left-side door. Back in the corner, Johnny Clark was at one of the mills fine-tuning what appeared to be a bell crank for one of the control surfaces.
“Need a hand, Johnny?”
His fellow Twenty-Seventher glanced his way, “not right now. Just trying to make some adjustments.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Pilot said his boosters are too ‘twitchy’ so I’m lengthening the push-rod lobe to change the response.” The new aileron booster systems used a bell-crank to combine the force of the control cables and the hydraulic system on the aileron. According to the maintenance manual and specifications provided by Lockheed, the actual balance of these forces could be altered by changing the geometry of the bell-crank itself, so by adjusting where the hydraulic pushrod anchored to the crank, Johnny Clark was reducing the amount of force applied by the hydraulics and increasing the amount provided directly by the pilot—or, at least, he was changing the balance of the forces at different amounts of deflection. He looked at his work and frowned, “now I just need to figure out how to re-harden the bastard.”
While T/4 Clark pondered the question, Art grabbed the Chanute AAB Sheet Metal School Sheet Metal Handbook which they always kept handy in the Machine Shop. This book was probably more read then the Bible by the Sheet Metal workers and welders of the 1st FG and they were always going back to reference it for some detail or standard specification.
One of the problems with working at a hastily constructed forward air-base, such as Salsola, was the lack of proper facilities for some of the more difficult jobs such as heat treatment ovens for tempering steel or hardening annealed aluminum. To harden the aluminum, they would need to quench it from 1000 degrees Fahrenheit to “solutionize” the alloy and follow that with heating it to around 350 degrees for a good ten hours and allow it to slowly cool to complete the Age Hardening. The trouble that Clark faced was finding a furnace which could hit and hold those temperatures.
“What about the mess?”
Clark glanced over to him, a questioning look in his eyes, “what mess?”
“No, no, the ‘Mess.’ The mess hall. You know, the kitchens. Their ovens should be able to to hit three-fifty and hold it.”
“Yeah, I s’pose so. But, that doesn’t help us with the Solutionizing. I doubt they get us to a thousand.”
“But we don’t need to hold it up there at all, just get there.” He thought for a bit, “back on the farm we built our own forge for horseshoes and straps and the like. I bet we can find everything we need from scrap and do the same. Get up to the Solvent temperature, quench it, and then take over an oven to Age Harden it.”
1203
So it was that Art Henry and Johnny Clark, together with Bill Waddell and Rum Fannin, spent the rest of their morning finding what they needed to build a small furnace. Being in southeastern Italy, the airbase was not supplied with any heating coal. The only fuel they had which would be able to get up the required temperature in a controlled way was from their welding tanks or the propane used by the kitchens.
They worked out a general plan and design which would use the old damaged fuel tank from the run-about as the main body of a firebox, cut down and insulated with the limestone gravel found everywhere around the base. To accomplish this, while the senior three metal workers set out on the actual construction, Art recruited a few other enlisted ground personnel and together they started to build a mound of dirt, sand, and gravel in which the firebox would be set and mostly buried.
Rum was working on fabricating a nozzle adapter to secure an old welding torch into the back of the box while Johnny started work cleaning and cutting the old tank. That left Bill, with rank seniority (and age seniority, as the rest liked to remind him), to find their C/O to get permission to get time on an oven in the next day or so.
Bill came back around noon, while the others were getting into their work.
“No-go on the kitchen. They said it is non-essential repair and can’t spare the oven for the time we’ll need it.”
Rum had expected this and already had an idea to get around the problem, “Then, let’s use our firebox instead.”
“How do propose we get the fuel needed to run it for a half-a-day?”
“We can rig the torch to use propane and scrounge a cylinder from the fuel depot. Should be enough fuel, and still be hot enough for us, and we won’t be wasting our acetylene. Hell, we could even rig it with oxy for the solutionizing and use propane throughout.”
“Not a bad idea…”
Bill stopped mid-sentence as a commotion of voices broke out down the field. The group of 27th Squadron Metal Workers looked together toward the East and each saw the growing form of the returning P-38s.
“I guess this will have to wait. Let’s get to Dispersion.” Bill, Rum, and Johnny all climbed aboard the run-about. Bill cranked it up and hollered over the sputtering engine, “you coming, Art?”
Art jumped on the back, bracing himself on the plywood platform as he could as Waddell drove them over to the 27th Fighter Squadron Dispersion Point, where most of the Squadron crews would congregate while watching the planes come in. Those crews assigned to specific aircraft would wait on their appropriate hardstands for their airplane to come back.
The gathered ground personnel started to anxiously count and identify the Lightnings as they came closer.
“Four…”
“No, six.”
“Three more over there.”
“There! Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen…”
The leading thirteen planes were the yellow tailed 94th squadron. Sixteen left in the morning and two came back early which meant that one more of their number was missing. The other six were a mixed flight of two black-tailed 71st planes and four red-tailed planes of the 27th.
The others circled and let the 71st planes come in first, the lead plane coming in on a long and low approach instead of the typical fighter peel off. There was a faint stream of pale gray smoke behind the left engine and as it came within ear-shot the occasional misfire became apparent. Everyone watched as it wobbled over the runway, the pilot struggling to get it set down properly, before the left wheel slammed onto the Marston Mat runway and the plane bounced violently back up. The rotating bounce caused the right wheel to come down and it must have been enough for the pilot because he dropped its nose and the whole airplane found fitful purchase of the uneven steel planking. It sped past, its tires screaming over the steel and its brakes squealing as the pilot slowed it down. Art saw it had the Squadron number ‘42’ on its nose but did not know who was in it.
An ambulance tore down after it, rightfully assuming the pilot was injured, as the other planes started to come in, hot on its heels. Each plane allowed only enough time for the plane before to clear the runway before committing to their approach, peeling off one and after the other and circling clear of the flight line as they waited their turn.
By 1220 all nineteen planes were parked and the skies were once more, silent. Twenty-two planes were still out.
1330
Lieutenant C.C. Hoenshell was the injured 71st pilot who first came in. The stories were already circulating that he had bagged more than a few enemy fighters but had wound up alone against six others. His escort from the 71st, Lt. Shepard who had led the Squadron today, said that the last anyone saw of him during the fight was when he Split-S’ed through a low cloud layer to escape. It was not until almost twenty-five minutes later, after leaving the target, they were able to contact him and join up by which time his plane was burning oil and he reported being hit. Because of his injuries, he decided to make it back directly to Salsola as quickly as possible and risked continuing to fly on the damaged engine instead of feathering it.
Beyond that and the rumor that the entire group was ambushed over the target there was not much information coming out of the debriefing tents.
Word had already come up that seven planes of the 71st had landed at Bari Airdrome to the south and would skip back to Salsola later in the afternoon as they were able.
Between 1300 and 1310 another six planes, all from the 27th, came back. They had separated from the Group on the return trip to take on some ground targets they spotted and had to stop at Vis Island off the Dalmatian coast to refuel. When they were all down, many the worse for wear from ground fire, they reported that there probably were not any other planes from the Squadron coming back.
It was going to be a long night for the ground crews assessing the damage and triaging the aircraft.
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HEADQUARTERS 1ST FIGHTER GROUP
Office of the Intelligence Officer
APO 520
10 June 1944
Narrative Mission Report #1039
MISSION #1039 27th, 71st, 94th Squadrons Ploesti, Rumania
1. MISSION AND TARGET: To provide support to 82nd Fighter Group on dive bombing of Oil Refineries at Ploesti, Rumania.
2. AIRCRAFT AND CHRONOLOGY: 48 P-38’s took off from Salsola A/D, Italy at 0517 hours. 7 returned early, (2 Mech, 3 escort, 2 cockpit trouble). 30 over the target or in immediate vicinity of target between 0830 and 0845. 19 down at base at 1202 hours, 6 down at base at 1300 hours, after having refueled at Vis Island; 6 down at base at 1414 hours, after having refueled at Bari; 1 at friendly field (Bari); 2 lost, 7 missing.
3. ROUTE: Base to Vidin and thence to I.P. thence to target; returning via Craiova to base with the exception of 6 who returned via Vis Island.
4. RENDEZVEOUS, FORMATION AND ASSAULT: R/V was effected at 0535 hours at 1500’ over Manfredonia as briefed and the entire formation proceeded on the deck to the I.P. at which point the escort turned left but the 82nd Fighter Group did not immediately turn making it necessary for the escort to turn right in order to remain with them. At this point the 82 turned left and cut off blue flight of the 71st squadron from the rest of the escort formation. Blue flight continued on to the target with 82nd, the rest of that squadron and the other squadrons having engaged with the e/a. All but 4 of the escort flew slightly to the S of the target at about 12,000’ and observed the 82nd as they formed up after dropping their bombs; the other 4 circled the target area from 0830/0840 hours at 12,000’ and then set course for base. One squadron did not go into the target after its engagement with the e/a.
5. RESULTS OF BOMBING: An effective smoke screen obscured the target but black smoke from oil fires rose to 5,000’.
6. STRAFING: A 1/G at Gaesti (44 43 N 25 19 E) was strafed and 4 Ju-52’s were left burning and 2 others were damaged; 1 ME-109 damaged. Hits were scored on an engine and 30 fright cars standing at the Gaesti RR Station. Several other trains in the vicinity of Cioeanesti (44 35 N 25 52 E), without observations of results, were strafed. On the S edge of Ploesti 2 gasoline storage tanks were strafed and destroyed. At an undetermined point in wester Rumania 2 steam engines were strafed and destroyed 3 others were damaged and several strings of 8/10 tank cars in each string were destroyed; also in western Rumania an additional steam engine was destroyed and just after strafing the gasoline tank at Ploesti a steam engine was attacked and destroyed; 3 of these steam engines were seen to blow up.
7. ENEMY AIR-RESISTANCE AND ACTIVITY: Upon making the turn at the I.P. one squadron observed 6 DO-217’s flying northerly on the deck; these were attacked and all destroyed. At this moment this squadron was attacked from above, behind and all sides by at least 20 yellow nose FW-190’s*. The squadron broke left into them and a general dog fight ensued. The e/a attacked singly, in pairs, and in flights of the 3 and 4 and in most instances directed themselves against the tail end charlies thence the number 3 man and on occasion continued on against the number 2 man and number 1 man.** These e/a were aggressive and skillful. 5/10 miles SE of Bucharest one squadron encountered 4 DO-217’s, 1 FW-190, 15/20 biplanes and 2/3 small monoplanes; these were flying on the deck and were in no particular formation and upon being attacked many crash landed and the others scattered in various directions; the encounter lasting about 5 minutes. As the target was approached on squadron observed 1 JU-88, 1 ME-210 and 2 ME_110’s flying at their level but no effort was made to attack the escort. The 2 ME-110’s were destroyed by the 82nd Fighter Group. One ME-109 made a pass at the escort as they came off their target, the escort broke into this e/a and damaged it. Two other ME-109’s approached the escort in this area but dove for the desk when they were broken into. The squadron which strafed at Gaesti*** were attacked by 30/40 ME-109’s from above and from all directions, pressing their attacked aggressively and succeeded in breaking up the P-38 formation. Several of the P-38’s formed a Lufberry’s and after about 10 minutes scattered and headed for base; many of the e/a following and pressing their attacks. The P-38’s quite easily out ran the e/a. One CR-42 was encountered in the target by a P-38 and destroyed. This e/a attacked from head-on.
8. FLAK: Intense, accurate, heavy, black, tracking and barrage type flack were encountered in the target area. Moderate, accurate, heavy, tracking type flack was encountered at Mostar and scant, accurate, light flack was directed at the formation from the edges of the E of Kotor on the Yugoslavian coast.
9. SIGNIFICANT OBSERVATIONS:
a) Naval and Shipping: 3 barges, 2 of which were camouflaged with brush and 1 loaded with RR ties were seen from 50’ at 0700 hours along the bank of the Danube at 43 54 N 22 52 E.
b) Enemy Ground Activity: A battery of anit-aircraft guns, forming a semi circle is located immediately west of the target along side of the RR which runs along the N side of the target seen from 12,000’ at 0845 hours.
c) Flak: See 8 above.
d) Other: None.
e) Enemy A/D’s and A/C on Ground: At least 1 JU-87, 2 JU-88, and 4 T/E A/C were seen on Craiova A/D at 0945 hours from 100’. 1 JU-52 which was burning, 3 other JU-52’s and 6 ME-109’s were observed on an airfield located at 44 08 N 24 55 E, at 0915 from less than 100’.
10. WEATHER: Except for a few scattered clouds the target area was clear, visibility was good.
11. AIR-SEA RESCUE: None.
12. RADIO SECURITY: Generally satisfactory.
13. FRIENDLY A/C SEEN LOST OR IN DIFFICULTY: 1 P-38, believed to be from 82nd Fighter Group, was seen to be in trouble with engine smoking at 0645 hours at 43 30 N 21 20 E heading roughly WSW. 1 P-38 (Lt. Gayman) belly landed in a field 10/15 miles SE of Bucharest (44 17 N 26 15 E) at 0825 hours; the pilot was seen to climb out of his plane and wave to his wing man. 3 P-38’s, 1 in flames, were seen to crash in the combat area at about 44 10 N 26 25 E; seen from less than 100’ at about 0825/30 hours. 1 P-38 was seen to crash into the Romano Americano Refinery at 0835 hours; seen from 12,000’.
14. ENEMY A/C SEEN DESTROYUED BY OTHER GROUPS: 2 ME-110’s were destroyed by the 82nd Fighter Group as they approached the target area.
CONCLUSIONS
15. VICTORIES AND LOSSES:
Victories,
Air
Destroyed
1 ME-109—Lt. Tovrea
2 ME-109’s—Lt. Miller
1 ME-109—Lt. Huber
5 FW-190—Lt. Hatch
2 FW-190’s—Lt. Hoenshell
1 FW-190—Lt. Smith
1 FW-190—Lt. Janci
1 CR-42—Lt. Armstrong
2 DO-217’s—Lt. Shepard
2 DO-217’s—Lt. Hoenshell
1 DO-217—Lt. Flack
1 DO-217—Lt. Hisey
1 DO-217—Lt. Barlow
1 DO-217—Lt. Crandall
2 U/I Biplanes—Lt. Miller
1 U/I Monoplane—Lt. Miller
2 U/I Biplanes—Lt. Allen
1 U/I Biplane—Lt. Heien
2 ME-109’s—Lt. Eldred
Prob. Dest.
1 ME-109—Lt. Burgoyne
1 ME-109—Lt. Huber
1 FW-190—Lt. Hatch
1 FW-190—Lt. Hoenshell
Damaged
1 ME-109—Maj. Pope
2 ME-109’s—Lt. Miller
1 FW-190—Lt. Shepard
1 FW-190—Lt. Hatch
1 FW-190—Lt. Janci
1 FW-190—Lt. Baker
TOTALS:
Destroyed
6 ME-109’s
9 FW-190’s
8 DO-217’s
1 CR-42
5 U/I Biplanes
1 U/I Monoplane
Prob. Dest.
2 ME-109’s
2 FW-190’s
Damaged
3 ME-109’s
4 FW-190’s
Ground:
Destroyed
1 JU-52—Lt. Miller
1 JU-52—Lt. Tovrea
1 JU-52—Lt. Sprengel
1 JU-52—Lt. Burgoyne
Damaged
2 JU-52—Lt. Caughlin
1 ME-109—Lt. Lemons
TOTALS:
Destroyed
4 JU-52’s
Damaged
2 JU-52’s
1 ME-109
Losses:
Our Losses:
Flak:
Fighters:
Other:
Lost 0 2 0
Missing 0 7 0
Damaged (repairable) 4 2 0
Damaged (non ‘’ ) 0 0 0
Wounded 0 1 0
Lt. Jackson was seen to be shot down by an e/a and his A/C was seen to blow up at 43 30 N 22 10 E
Lt. Gayman was seen to belly land in a field 10/15 miles SE of Bucharest at 44 17 N 26 15 E. He was seen to climb out of the his A/C and wave to Lt. Crandell who circled over him.
Lt. Hisey was last seen on single engine at 44 15 N 26 20 E. He was heard to call on his radio that he was under attack and said, “This is it; I guess I’ve had it.”
Lt. Flack was heard on the radio calling for help in the first break of combat.
Lt. Potter was flying Lt. Flack’s wing. No information is available.
Lt. Johnson was flying Lt. Hisey’s wing. No information is available.
Capt. Bischoff was last seen in vicinity near Gaesti while strafing.
Lt. McClellan was last seen in vicinity near Gaesti while strafing.
Lt. Noone was last seen in area SE of Gaesti. No information is available.
16. SORTIES: 43. 2 are non-effective.
17. FORMATION LEADER AND FLIGHT LEADERS: Group leader and 27th Squadron leader, Lt. Miller; flight leaders, Lts., Burgoyne, Sprengel, and Tovrea. 71st Squadron leader, Lt. Shepard; flight leaders, Lts., Ferguson, Hoenshell, and Flack. 94th Squadron leader, Lt. Barlow; flight leaders, Lts., Gayman, Quesseth, and Allen.
18. COMMENTS: Pilots flying A/C with Aileron Boosters reported being able to out-roll and out-turn the e/a at all speeds and altitudes. Many credit their survival to this. Only 1 A/C (Lt. Hisey) with boosters is missing.
19. CORRECTIONS ON TELEPHONE MISSION REPORTS: None.
[Signed]
JAMES D. CARTON, JR.,
Captain, Air Corps,
Intelligence Officer.
*[ED: Misidentified Romanian IAR-80s]
**[ED: This was Lt. Hoenshell’s (71 FS) Yellow Flight. Hoenshell, Potter, Hisey, Johnson]
***[ED: 27 FS]
