I've been fortunate to find a lot of information about Granddad's service during World War II. I've found so much information that I'm a bit overwhelmed and happy to finally commit it to written word.
As the US entered the war, there was an intense debate about the ability of heavy bombers. The outcome produced a dangerous over-confidence: heavily-armed bombers on daylight precision bombing missions could penetrate any defense without the support of long-range escort fighters. Unfortunately for thousands and thousands of men this assertion was wildly incorrect.
US Bomber aircraft, left to their own defenses, were easy targets for flack gunners and the German Messerschmitts. Knowing the likelihood of not returning to base from any one mission was understandably debilitating for the bomber crews. As morale became a larger issue, the USAAF leadership instated a 25 mission rule: once an airmen flew 25 combat missions, he was cleared to go home. The number was later raised to 30 and then 35.
I mention this because Mom requested and recieved Granddad's official military record from the Gov. I don't think we were expecting full disclosure (which is good, because we didn't get it) but we did learn that Granddad flew 31 combat missions (!) during the bloodiest period of the war for American heavy bombers. I'll have to double check the dates on those changes…conceivably; granddad was in overtime when he was shot down!?
I never thought the key that would unlock the most information about WWII Granddad was his plane. Granddad was a Navigator aboard B-17 aircraft #41-24352. Navigators were officers which made Granddad a Lieutenant and third in command aboard his aircraft. The B-17F Flying Fortress was assigned and delivered to granddad and crew (a.k.a. the 352nd squadron of the 301st bombardment group of the 8th Air Force) at RAF Chelveston in July, 1942. Granddad flew his first 5 missions with the 8th Air Force.
The relationship between crew and plane didn't start out so well. In August, '42 aircraft #41-24352 made an emergency landing at an unfinished Earls Colne Airfield in Essex, England. Be sure to check-out the Wikipedia link for Earls Colne. In the last paragraph of the Origins section, look for Granddad's plane #. J Fortunately, the relationship later improved.
Matthew found how aircraft #41-24352 eventually became the Holey Joe. The story below and the location of Earls Colne seem to make sense. Dover, England is 70 miles Southeast of Essex, England.
"The plane earned its nickname during a raid on Lille, after which the bomber had to make an emergency landing at an airstrip near the Cliffs of Dover with two dead engines and two wounded crew. After surveying the damage their ship had absorbed, one of the crew exclaimed, "Holey Joe!" The name stuck."
In the following picture, A is Essex; B is Dover; and C is Lille. Other crews flew the Holey Joe but the primary crew was granddad and team.
In November, 1942 Granddad and crew were transferred to North Africa to join Operation Torch under the command of General Doolittle. On March 22, 1943, Granddad's 26th birthday, the day's target was the harbor at Palermo, Italy. On that day the Holey Joe had been grounded due to mechanical problems. Instead, they were flying Junior, a newer plane that had been assigned only one month earlier to the squadron based at Ain M'Lila Airfield in Algeria.
At top speed, the B-17F moved just about 300 miles per hour. Palermo is 401 miles from Ain M'Lila. Once unleashed, it would have taken Junior and crew certainly no more than 90 minutes to reach their destination.
During the raid, Junior was hit by flack and broke apart. Granddad never talked about it. Any of it. We found a couple of descriptions from Emmet Cook's family members. Here's the first one:
"I was shot down on my 32nd mission, over Palermo, Sicily," Emmet said. "We were hit by flak between the number 2 engine and the fuselage and the fuel tank caught fire. I pulled the emergency release cable that was supposed to pull out the lower hatch door's hinge pins, but it wouldn't budge. I then released the regular latch and stood on the door, trying to use my weight to push it open and I got it open, but because of the force of the slipstream, it didn't open far enough for me to get out. At that moment, the wing burned off and the plane went into a spin. I was pinned against the deck and the plane exploded and I found myself out in the air. Five of the crew didn't make it out."
And the second one:
The day's mission was a raid on the harbor at Palermo Italy. Emmet said, "Our crew was with the 352d Squadron of the 301st Bomb Group flying out of North Africa. [The raid] on shipping at the Palermo, Sicily Harbor...was my 32nd mission. Several ammo ships were blown out of the harbor."
Junior and several of her crew would not survive the raid on Palermo. The B-17 was hit by flak. The bomber's left wing caught fire and eventually tore-off, sending the plane into a spin. Five men including the pilot, co-pilot, engineer, radio operator and ball turret gunner were trapped and perished in the crash.
Both Emmet and Granddad were captured after being shot down and detained by the Germans at Stalag Luft III in Zagan, Poland. He was held captive for over two years.
Mom says that Granddad didn't directly participate in the great escape, but he did contribute bed slats that were used to reinforce the tunnels. These pictures were taken approximately one month after being shot down and captured. They came from the second link of Emmet's above. Can you see Granddad?
…answer: he's on the far right in the first picture. Emmet is on the far left. I'm the only one that thinks he's in the second picture: fourth person from the right with his hands on hips. As a sidenote, I've learned that Stalag Luft III is probably less than 500 miles from the birthplaces of both Granddad's parents.
On January 27, 1945, the Allied forces were closing-in on Stalag Luft III and Hitler ordered that those detainees be moved to Moosburg. They were moved by foot over 80 miles during a blizzard before being loaded onto trains for the remainder of journey. The trip took over a week. ...one of many horrible memories that Granddad bared silently. Granddad and the other POWs were eventually liberated by General George S. Patton (Granddad was proud of this). Among other medals, he was awarded the Air Medal and Oak Leaf Cluster.
EDIT: I got a comment from Aunt Gerry this afternoon that I'd like to attach to this post:
DAVID - didn't know writing/blogging was one of your many talents!!! Really enjoyed reading about your research on the Yonyches - the crew records show two other friends of Grandad and Grammy (she met them at the POW reunions) - Doug Upton and Ned Woolsey. Also - Grandad did know that Mama and Papa came from towns that were "close" to each other so although 100 miles sounds far to me - he thought it interesting that they could have met back in the old country (possibly) if they hadn't migrated to the USA. Thanks for researching & sharing with us all. Love you! Gerry
Just for the record, I have a remarkably short list of talents. Thank you for the comment and the contribution! ...without some reaction from my readers(?), blogging feels awefully lonesome.
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