07-22-2024, 03:46 AM
This post was last modified 07-22-2024, 04:04 AM by FlyingClayDisk.
My father was on the Schweifurt raids in 1943!
381st Bombardment Group Heavy 533rd squadron, based out of Ridgewell, England. B-17's.
He spoke of Schweinfurt often, and he rarely spoke about the war (except to me). Half of the aircraft were to return to bases in England, and the other half were to continue on to Africa following the raids. Most never made either. Dad flew (68) missions...it took (24) to go home (3 full tours). Crashed (3) times, shot down twice, once in occupied France (returning from Schweinfurt), once in England and got his Caterpillar Award for having to bail out over Missouri.
The aircraft he was in for the Rheims raid, Big Mike, was heavily damaged on the mission. They made it back across the Channel, but crashed at Ridgewell with (2) engines out, (1) on fire and (1) operational. Several of the crew had been KIA. Only one of the mains was operational. Landed in the rain and slid off the runway into a large ditch, tearing off the left wing. A crazy crew chief named Frenchy (a French Canadian from Louisiana) said he could rebuild the plane, but parts were almost non-existent at the time. He ultimately scavenged a wing from a B-17G model and attached it to Big Mike (a B-17F model). This required permission from Curtis LeMay himself. When the plane was finished it was renamed 'Frenchy's Folly'.
At first, no one was willing to fly on Frenchy's Folly, so they took volunteers. By this point my father had the reputation that he couldn't be killed. Without an aircraft assigned, he readily volunteered. As soon as this happened they suddenly had too many volunteers to fly on Frenchy's Folly (they all wanted to fly with the guy who always came home).
I told this story once before, on a very popular (then) firearms forum. One day I got a reply from a girl who signed up just to send me a note. Her grandfather was Frenchy, and he remembered Dad well. Sadly, my father had passed away just one month prior to that day. At the time, Frenchy was nearing his 100th birthday. I would have loved to make a reunion between those two happen.
I was fortunate to have been told this and many other stories about WWII (the story(s) above are the short version). The story about crash landing in occupied France is a particularly harrowing story including a shootout on the ground with an SS unit.
Brave men (and women) who fought for Freedom and a way of life. Sacrifice beyond anything we will ever know. May they rest in eternal peace.
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A bit of B-17 trivia from WWII.
Engine fires were both common and difficult to extinguish on the B-17. The B-17 was equipped with fire extinguishers, but they were seldom effective. The best way the air crews found to extinguish an engine fire was to go into a steep dive. The dive would be conducted at (or even above) maximum airspeed. The increased airspeed would make the fire burn much more intensely so the engine could burn through the engine mounts and fall away...before the wing caught fire and exploded.
Dad always used to say it was funny all the creative things people will think of when the alternative was...going to a Nazi POW camp (or worse).
381st Bombardment Group Heavy 533rd squadron, based out of Ridgewell, England. B-17's.
He spoke of Schweinfurt often, and he rarely spoke about the war (except to me). Half of the aircraft were to return to bases in England, and the other half were to continue on to Africa following the raids. Most never made either. Dad flew (68) missions...it took (24) to go home (3 full tours). Crashed (3) times, shot down twice, once in occupied France (returning from Schweinfurt), once in England and got his Caterpillar Award for having to bail out over Missouri.
The aircraft he was in for the Rheims raid, Big Mike, was heavily damaged on the mission. They made it back across the Channel, but crashed at Ridgewell with (2) engines out, (1) on fire and (1) operational. Several of the crew had been KIA. Only one of the mains was operational. Landed in the rain and slid off the runway into a large ditch, tearing off the left wing. A crazy crew chief named Frenchy (a French Canadian from Louisiana) said he could rebuild the plane, but parts were almost non-existent at the time. He ultimately scavenged a wing from a B-17G model and attached it to Big Mike (a B-17F model). This required permission from Curtis LeMay himself. When the plane was finished it was renamed 'Frenchy's Folly'.
At first, no one was willing to fly on Frenchy's Folly, so they took volunteers. By this point my father had the reputation that he couldn't be killed. Without an aircraft assigned, he readily volunteered. As soon as this happened they suddenly had too many volunteers to fly on Frenchy's Folly (they all wanted to fly with the guy who always came home).
I told this story once before, on a very popular (then) firearms forum. One day I got a reply from a girl who signed up just to send me a note. Her grandfather was Frenchy, and he remembered Dad well. Sadly, my father had passed away just one month prior to that day. At the time, Frenchy was nearing his 100th birthday. I would have loved to make a reunion between those two happen.
I was fortunate to have been told this and many other stories about WWII (the story(s) above are the short version). The story about crash landing in occupied France is a particularly harrowing story including a shootout on the ground with an SS unit.
Brave men (and women) who fought for Freedom and a way of life. Sacrifice beyond anything we will ever know. May they rest in eternal peace.
.
.
.
.
.
A bit of B-17 trivia from WWII.
Engine fires were both common and difficult to extinguish on the B-17. The B-17 was equipped with fire extinguishers, but they were seldom effective. The best way the air crews found to extinguish an engine fire was to go into a steep dive. The dive would be conducted at (or even above) maximum airspeed. The increased airspeed would make the fire burn much more intensely so the engine could burn through the engine mounts and fall away...before the wing caught fire and exploded.
Dad always used to say it was funny all the creative things people will think of when the alternative was...going to a Nazi POW camp (or worse).
