I was lucky enough during my career as a flight attendant to have many delightful people on flights I worked. Whenever I'd see someone wearing a hat for a military unit I would ask if the person would mind telling me a little about their service. One man knocked me off my feet, he'd flown bombers on missions including black missions for the OSS. I asked if he would tell me a little, he asked for my address, a few days later I got a fat envelope in the mail. This is the first mission he described. I will post the other as soon as I can get it typed. These are his words entirely.
MEMORIES OF THE 8TH AIR FORCE "SURPRISE" ATTACK ON HAMM, GERMANY, 22 APRIL, 1944
Why am I writing this article 48 years after the events happened? Here is why:
A couple of years ago I heard about the 467th and 801/492nd Bomb Group Associations. During 1944 I had flown five daylight B-24 bombing missions with the 467th Bomb Group and 30 secret night missions with the 801st/492nd Bomb Group dropping spies and supplies to support the French underground forces.
I joined both Associations; have gone to their reunions; have received their Quarterly News Letters and bought and read the two books written that best describe the history of both groups (1) "The 467th Bombardment Group, September 1943-June 1945'; (2) "The Carpetbaggers, America's Secret War in Europe" by Ben Parnell, which describes the secret night missions of the 801st/492nd Group.
Because of my renewed interest in both groups, I have recently been reminiscing about the various missions that I flew from April through August 1944.
One mission in particular stands out above the other thirty-four: the 467th Bomb Group mission to Hamm, Germany on 22 April 1944. That was my crews 3rd Combat Mission.
HQ. 8th Air Force decided to pull a "surprise" attack on Germany. Our target was the railroad marshaling yards at Hamm, Germany.
The "surprise" was that the 8th Air Force was to hit the target about an hour before dark and catch the Germans unprepared to retaliate with anti-aircraft guns (flak) and fighters.
After bombing the target, we were to fly in formation back to the coastline. Upon reaching the North Sea coastline, darkness would be setting in.
At our afternoon briefing, our instructions were that when it got dark, we were to break formation, turn on our running lights and each crew was on its' own to return to base.
The group aircraft took off as scheduled late in the afternoon/early. My squadron, the 788th, was not leading the group. My crew was flying number 2 position (deputy lead) in the squadron formation. I do not recall who our squadron lead pilot was.
The group got into formation at about 24,000 feet altitude at the assigned radio beacon north of our base, Rackheath. At the designated time, the group turned east and joined other groups flying in formation at the division assembly line. When we crossed the North Sea, our altitude was approximately 27,000 feet.
After landfall, we saw some flak bursts in the distance but no enemy fighters. About 10 minutes prior to reaching the I.P. (a point above the ground from which a straight bomb run was made to the target) our plane got hit by flak which disabled the number 2 engine. I dropped back out of formation, lost some air speed but was able to hold altitude. We dropped back about 200 yards from the formation before we had number 2 prop feathered (the front edge of the propeller blades pointed forward to reduce drag), mixture controls full rich, propellers in maximum RPM and the throttles full forward. We were too far over enemy territory to turn back. A single B-24, with one engine out, flying alone, would be an inviting and easy target for enemy fighter aircraft.
Luckily, I had been able to maintain altitude. With full power on the three good engines, I was able to catch up to and rejoin the formation. Another aircraft had pulled into my vacated position and I pulled into the open spot at the back of the 788th formation. With the extra power on the three engines, I did not have any trouble staying in formation.
Within a couple of minutes, we got to the I.P. and the various flights got in trail position for the bomb run.
After dropping the bombs, the flights turned right off the target and reformed into the normal group formation configuration for the return flight.
The flight to the coast was routine with the exception of having to keep extra power on the three engines to enable us to keep in formation.
Just prior to reaching the coast in semi-darkness, enemy anti-aircraft guns shot up some tracer shells at us. They resembled the bright white Roman candles used at 4th of July celebrations. There were 10 or 15 of them. I saw them passing nearby to the right of us. They were going straight up. Because my field of vision was cut-off at the top of the co-pilot's window, I could not follow them up. I had never seen anything like that before.
Shortly thereafter, we crossed the coastline and headed back across the North Sea. When we were out over the water about 5 miles, darkness was becoming a reality.
I decided to breakout of the formation a little early due to the fact I had been pulling excessive power on the three good engines while in formation, and did not want to risk losing another one at night over the North Sea (I wasn't sure how far a B-24 would fly on two engines and I did not want to find out).
Shortly after dropping back out of formation, we turned on our running lights and started a very slow descent. This allowed me to reduce the power and take the strain off the three good engines.
When full darkness came, I started to fly by instruments which was normal procedure on night flights over water. The navigator, Lt. Harold Pantis, kept getting electronic fixes. He kept us all informed, over the intercom, as to when we would make landfall near Great Yarmouth, and the estimated time of arrival (ETA) over our base at Rackheath. We did not see the lights of other aircraft. The formation had pulled ahead and disbursed in front of us. They were flying faster than we were.
The navigator, who was superior at this work, gave me a few small corrections as we kept our slow letdown to the English coast.
There was radio silence.
Just about when our ETA over the coast was up, the navigator called and said we were then crossing the coastline. The night was very dark and there was a 100% blackout on the ground. We could not see the coastline or anything on land. He gave me the heading to the base and an ETA which was only minutes away. I told the crew to get into their normal positions for landing (ball turret up, tail gunner out, waist guns secured, etc.). The navigator was to stay in place in the front of the aircraft until the base was in sight.
When the ETA at the base was up, the navigator called over the intercom and said that he base was directly below us. I banked the aircraft to the left and looked down. I could see absolutely no base lights or runway lights-everything was blacked out. The city of Norwich was located about 8 miles southwest of the airbase. At Norwich, barrage balloons were up to protect the city from low flying German bombers. We had to avoid flying over the blacked out city or risk being off course and having a cable from a balloon knock us down; or being fired on by the anti-aircraft guns protecting the city.
While circling around near the base, some other aircraft were also flying around with running lights on. No aircraft had an assigned altitude. We were on our own.
Horsham St. Faith, another B-24 base in our wing and division, was located about 8 miles west of our base. We could not see any lights at that base either.
We did not have an alternate airport assigned during the briefing.
There was still radio silence. The control tower did not send out any instructions. I do not remember if I, or any other pilots flying around, broke radio silence. If one of us did, the tower did not respond.
With headings supplied by the navigator, I made about 6 passes across the blacked out base. The entire countryside was very dark with no lights or landmarks visible.
I then told the navigator that we would fly northeast for 5 minutes and then make a 180 degree turn and head back to the base. I thought that by flying straight and level for that period of time, the navigator would be able to better reconfirm our exact position in relation to the base.
After making the 180 degree turn, he gave me the heading and ETA back to Rackheath. When the ETA was up, he again stated that the base was below us. I then began to circle to the left again but the base was still not in sight.
