July 5, 1944

World War II ended for my Dad 64 years ago today.  From his unit history:

5 July 1944 - Mission 36

SUBMARINE PENS, TOULON, FRANCE: The Group rendezvous with the 460th BG, 464th BG, 465th BG and 1 group of P-38s at 1230 hours.  Figher escort remained with the formation over the target until the formation was well past the coast of France on the return route.  72.5 tons of 500 lb. GP (General Purpose) bombs from 22,800 feet.  Bombing results generally fair.  The enemy use of smoke screen only partially successful due to an adverse wind.  No hits were observed on the sub-pens, however some bombs hit the adjacent dry docks.  No enemy aircraft met in the target area but were engaged with our escort.  Moderate flak over the target.  Some red flak bursts were seen in the target area.  The nose gunner of aircraft 727 had a very exciting experience when his electrical flying suit caught fire.  It was extinguished without much difficulty.  He received only slight burns.  2 Aircraft missing; 812 was observed to have turned back at 1200 hours with #3 engine feathered.  When last seen 812 was under control hand heading towards Corsica.  Aircraft 127 was seen to lose altitude at the target and lagged.  Some P-38s dropped down to provide cover.  127 last seen under control.  Weather clear and return made without incident.  

Not without incident for everybody.  Dad's plane, presumably "812," crashed in Corsica.

Dad was the tail gunner on a B-24.  He was with the 485th Bomber Group of the 15th Air Force, (829th Bombardment Squadron), the smaller of the two main bomber forces in the European Theater.  They flew out of North Africa, and then later out of Italy.  While the tail gunner post was a dangerous job, it may have saved Dad's life.  Only two of the (I think) seven crewmen survived.  The pilot, who had told the crew to prepare for a crash, didn't.  Dad was trapped in the wreckage for a day in a swamp in Corsica until they found him.  I remember him saying they had shot all their emergency flares to celebrate July 4.  

Dad rarely talked about the war, though he opened up a little as he got older.  The book Masters of the Air draws a harrowing picture of what it was like to go on those missions.  The odds for the crews weren't very good, and even a successful mission was flown in awful conditions - every flight was in below-zero unpressurized cabins, with only primitive electric flight suits to protect against frostbite and with only a thin aluminum skin to protect against bullets and flak.  

Next summer we are tentatively planning to go to Europe.  I'd like to leave flowers where Dad crashed and his crewmates died, but I'm not sure it would be possible to even find the crash site after so many years.   

Here's an interview with an old pilot from Dad's bomb group.  He starts talking about the conditions and missions about 10:45 in.