William G. Rueckert (service Number: 0 -420521) was born September 9th 1920, in Moline, Illinois. At school, he became a model student, achieving high grades throughout his school life. Upon leaving, he won a place at Illinois University where he wanted to study Law. Rueckert had a passion for reading, particularly the classics like Shakespeare and Proust and was known for his hard work and dedication.
It was at University that he met, on a blind date, he wife to be, ‘Dee’. The meeting almost never took place due to a faulty car, but as a lover of dancing, they turned out to be the perfect match and his lateness was forgiven.
Inseparable as a couple, Rueckert and Dee were married only a year later, in 1940, when Rueckert was just 19 years old.
War came even closer, and Rueckert decided he had to do his part and joined up with the Army, on July 15th 1941. Based at Pine Camp, New York, he was part of the 4th Armoured Division, and his hard work and dedication was very quickly realised; he soon won himself an award on the firing range. Constant passionate letters home cemented the love between Rueckert and Dee, in one letter he said; “My life, my love and all my hope all lie in my wife Dee!”
Rueckert’s life then changed and he joined the USAAC. As a trainee pilot, he moved from New York, to California and then onto New Mexico where he gained the qualification of Pilot instructor on October 28th 1943.
Whilst flying here at New Mexico, the plane Rueckert was in, a B-24, collided with a small training aircraft killing its pilot. Rueckert managed to land his own B-24 and following his actions, was credited with saving the lives of the crewmen on board.
Finally, the draw of the war led Rueckert to requesting a post overseas. He was sent to RAF Hardwick, Norfolk to join the 409th BS, 93rd BG, 20th Combat Wing, Eighth Airforce, in April 1944. Formed only two years earlier on 22nd April 1942, the 409th was to be Rueckert’s only operational squadron. Having won three DUCs already for operations over Europe including; the raid on the Romanian oil fields at Ploesti, and the enormous raid of February 1944 ‘Big Week’, the 93rd were a battle hardened group.
“Ted’s Flying Circus” as they were to be known, took part in the preparations for D-Day, completing much of their bombing missions over the Normandy area, cutting supply lines and communication routes across France.
Rueckert’s first and only mission, was on May 1st 1944. It was to be a night flight. He joined his best friend along with his assigned pilot Second Lieutenant Albert Schreiner (0-805532) on B-24 ‘Joy Ride‘ #42-7621, leaving his regular crew behind at Hardwick.
The aircraft, began its roll down the runway, as it neared the take off point, it is thought the undercarriage collapsed causing a catastrophic crash in which seven bombs exploded. The aircraft was completely destroyed and five of the crew killed including the pilot and Lt. Rueckert. The crash was so intense, it closed one of the three enormous runways for five days.
Dee, Rueckert’s wife, found out by telegraph that her husband had been killed. She was understandably devastated as were the two young children, Billy and Dianne.
Rueckert’s body was initially buried at Madingley Cemetery, Cambridge, but later he was repatriated and buried in the family plot in Illinois. His purple Heart, awarded earlier, has since been donated by his son Billy, to the church at Topcroft, where Rueckert prayed the night before that fatal flight. A plaque also sits in the wall in remembrance of the 668 men who never returned to Hardwick. Rueckert’s name appears in the St Paul’s Cathedral Roll of Honour, on page 365.
After part 1, we return to Snailwell, to see how the American influence played its part at Snailwell and how the build- up to D-day affected life at this small grassed airfield.
The squadron was assigned to the 350th Fighter Group (FG) who would eventually transfer to the Middle East. It would be the 347th’s sister squadron the 346th who would later convert Hurricane Mk I #LB640 target tug into a two-seat liaison plane.
Hurricane Mk I #LB640 after being converted into a two-seat liaison plane. IWM (UPL 17052)
As they were a new squadron the 347th would initially have no ground echelon, they were still being formed and prepared for transportation over the Atlantic from their base at Harding Field, Louisiana. They would arrive in the UK in the November and after a short period at Snailwell, the entire squadron would move out to RAF Kings Cliffe in Northamptonshire, before moving away to the warmer climate of the Middle East.
The winter of 1942/43 saw further detachments being based here at Snailwell. In conjunction with the US forces were 170 Sqn, who remained here from the end of October through the winter until February 1943. After a short spell away they made a brief one day stop over before being moved to RAF Odiham.
The January of 1943 saw yet more short stays. On the 17th 182 Sqn arrived with Typhoon IBs. Based at RAF Sawbridgeworth in Hertfordshire, 182 Sqn were finding it hard to get in any flying at all, as the heavy winter rains had clogged up the metal PSP runways with thick mud preventing the aircraft from taking off.
Two days earlier 70 ground personnel had been dispatched from Sawbridgeworth to Snailwell in preparation for the forthcoming training operation. Operation “Shatter” as it was designated, would be a mock attack on gun emplacements on the outskirts of Thetford Forest. On the 17th, the ten aircraft were sent from RAF Sawbridgeworth led by Sqn. Ldr Pugh along with a further four from the detachment at RAF Hunsdon. On arrival they found their sister squadron, 181 Sqn also with Typhoons, already here for the Army Cooperation training operation. A large party was given that night in honour of the new 182 Sqn crews. The next day, a preliminary attack was made on the target by eleven 182 Sqn aircraft, who made runs over both the dummy and real guns in a “full frontal attack”. The following day, a complete squadron attack was made with the aircraft having to be airborne in under 4.5 minutes. For the first time since forming, all the canons on the Typhoons are fully loaded with live ammunition and a full squadron scramble was undertaken.
Aerial photograph of Snailwell airfield looking south, 26 July 1942 (IWM RAF_FNO_67_V_6032)
In the afternoon a four ship formation was loaded up with 2 x 250 lb bombs and a further attack was made. This attack ended the training session for 182 Sqn and the next day they return to the muddy runways of Sawbridgeworth.
Two months later on March 8th 1943, 181 Sqn was reunited with her other sister squadron 183 Sqn here at Snailwell. After a number of short training flights covering just four days, 183 Sqn departed the Cambridgeshire airfield leaving 181 Sqn here until the end of the month.
Throughout 1943 much of the same was to happen, short stays for training missions were the order of the day. 309 Sqn flew the Mustang MK.I and Hurricane VIs. The Polish squadron became renowned amongst the Allies when F/Lt Janusz Lewkowicz flew a Mustang I to Norway and back strafing targets at Stavanger just to prove the point that the Mustang had the range!
Another squadron, 613 Sqn also brought their Mustangs along in July, and 184 Sqn arrived with Hurricanes. 247 Sqn brought back the mighty Typhoon, each of these squadrons carrying out training flights, some for as little as two days others for more prolonged periods.
As the end of 1943 drew a line under the busy ebb and flow of visiting squadrons, 1944 would see a rather more settled year. After a single RAF squadron, 527 Sqn, moved in and then out two months later, the build up to D-day would see big changes at Snailwell.
The invasion of Europe was destined to be the largest invasion build up the world had ever seen, and southern England was to be the primary area in which this build up would take place. With the creation of the Ninth Air Force, whose primary purpose was to provide assistance to the forth coming Normandy landings, more and more airfields were going to be required. Whilst front line units would be directly involved in operations over the Normandy coast, there would need to be a major service and maintenance support network, if the invasion were to succeed. This service was to be carried out by a series of six Tactical Air Depots (TAD) all falling under the command of the IX Air Force Service Command, via two Advanced Air Depot Areas (AADA).
One of these depots, the 3rd Tactical Air Depot based at RAF Grove some 55 miles from London, were responsible for the maintenance and repair of Douglas A-20 ‘Havocs’ and P-61 ‘Black Widows’. Because of the increasing demand for maintenance facilities, the 3rd TAD took over the facilities at RAF Snailwell, moving in two Mobile Repair and Maintenance Squadrons, the 33rd and 41st, in preparation for maintenance operations. Their primary role was to make field modifications to the aircraft in preparation for operational roles, as a result of which the A-20s became a regular feature around the airfield. After only a short time though it was realised that the 41st would not be required here, and so they returned to RAF Grove. To replace them, a specialist team were brought in – the 51st Service Squadron. By the time D-day had passed, the pressure at Grove had subsided and so both units were able to return home from Snailwell. With that, the American connection with Snailwell ended.
As the war drew to a close so too did both operational flying and training flights. The RAF (Belgian) Initial Training School used the airfield sharing it with nearby RAF Bottisham. In March 1946, the Belgians pulled out returning to their own country now free from the Nazi tyranny that had dominated it for so long.
Snailwell then closed, standing empty and gradually returning to agricultural use. Many of the buildings were pulled down but some hung on for several years being used for agricultural purposes. The Blister hanger, sheds and training buildings remained for a number of years, certainly until the mid 1990s, but gradually even these were removed with little evidence of their existence being left today. The airfield was then dissected by a major road development in 1975, remaining parts being bought up by the British Horse Racing School who now own a large portion of the former airfield. High hedges and gated access restrict most access to the former site, (the Icknield Way long-distance route does pass along side these tracks and borders the former airfield from which remnants can be seen) leaving the last few sections of concrete hanging on as reminders of the airfields once proud and hectic existence.
With a mix of repair and maintenance units added to the pot, the war years for Snailwell were far from slow. The regular ebb and flow of detached units for training flights, and the occasional permanent flying unit, saw a wide range of aircraft types and nationalities grace the skies of this small area of Eastern Cambridgeshire. With little evidence of its existence left today, Snailwell, and its proud history, would seem to have been lost, replaced by Horse racing and the desire for the high stakes demanded by the equestrian market.
From Snailwell, we head west, deeper in to the area owned by the Horse racing fraternity. Here we see on every street corner evidence of this now popular sport, well groomed bushes that surround neatly cut turfs, on what now remains of Britain’s wartime heritage. Our next stop on Trail 55, is the pinnacle of these activities, the former RAF Newmarket Heath.
Sources and Further Reading.
*1 Official Directorate of Works drawing (WA7/395/41) IWM UPL 17710
In the latest Trail around Britain’s airfields, we visit four airfields so close that as the crow flys, they are a mere 12.5 km from the first to the last. It is an area to the east of Cambridge, a large University City that now dwarfs the River Cam the narrow waterway that gave the city its name. The final airfield we visit lies on the outskirts of the city itself, and is probably more famous for its more recent operations under Marshalls of Cambridge, the Aerospace and Defence Group.
Our first stop though takes us through prime horse racing land, through the home of the Jockey Club and an area divided into studs and stabling, not for live stock, but for horses.
Our first stop in Trail 55 is the former RAF Snailwell, a small airfield where life was far from slow!
RAF Snailwell (USAAF Station 361).
Snailwell lies just outside of the town of Newmarket in the county of Cambridgeshire now infinitely famous for its horse racing. The village of Snailwell from which the airfield takes its name, lies on the northern edge of the former airfield which is now owned, as is much of this area, by the British Racing School who vehemently protect it from prying eyes.
Sitting to the north of the Bury St. Edmunds railway line, the airfield opened in the Spring of 1941, after the levelling of ten Bronze age Barrows (ancient burial grounds) as a satellite for RAF Duxford located to the south-west. The airfield would go through an ever changing number of roles including: Army Co-Operation, training, and as a fighter base performing low-level attacks on shipping and land based targets. It would also see a wide range of aircraft types from the small trainer to the powerful tank-buster the Typhoon. Opened as a technical training airfield, it passed to the control of 28 (Technical Training) Group whose headquarters were located in London. It fell under the command of Air Commodore John Charles ‘Paddy’ Quinnell, an avid lover of sailing who had a distinguished military history that extended back to 1914, first with the Royal Artillery and then with the Royal Flying Corps.
As a small grass airfield, Snailwell was by no means insignificant. It had three grass runways the largest being just short of 1,700 yards long, whilst the second and third were 1,400 yards in length. The main runway crossed the airfield on a south-west to north-east direction protruding out of the main airfield area. Aircraft were dispersed on concrete hardstands, a mix of twelve ‘Fighter’ style Type B hardstands (capable of holding two aircraft side by side but separated by a bank) along with two 50 ft diameter ‘frying pan’ style stands. They also had the use of a Bellman hangar, and ten blister hangars for servicing and maintenance of aircraft*1.
To the north, hidden amongst the trees was a bomb store, with separate fusing buildings, tail stores, incendiary and component stores, access to the site being via a 12 ft wide concrete road.
In all, there were only a few permanent personnel at the airfield, accommodation was only erected for around 1,100 officers and enlisted men in Nissen huts over just two sites; Dormitory site 1 and 2, which were supplemented with a mess site and sick quarters. It is known that later users were camped in tents around the airfield perimeter – not ideal accommodation by any means. Unusually, the technical area was widely spread with many buildings being away from the airfield hub. The watch office, at the centre of this hub, was designed to 12779/41 and had an adjoining meteorological office attached, an unusual addition for this type. There was also a wide range of buildings, AMT trainer, two Link trainers, flight offices, sleeping shelters, parachute stores, fire tender huts and numerous associated maintenance stores and sheds.
During construction of the airfield a local road was closed, and a lodge, built at the turn of the century, utilised as a guard room for the airfield. This building later passed to the Jockey Club for use by its employees.
The initial users of the airfield were the Army Co-operation Squadron 268 Sqn RAF, who arrived at Snailwell with Lysander IIIs on April 1st 1941. Being a slow aircraft it was ideal as a reconnaissance aircraft, flying patrols along the coast of East Anglia, looking for any sign of an invasion force. After arriving at Snailwell from Bury St. Edmunds, the three Echelons immediately began training, three photographic sorties taking place on the very day they arrived. In the days that followed, combined Army and Air Force exercises were the order of the day, after which the squadron took part in intensive gas training along with routine flying. However, 268 Sqn would not settle here, yo-yoing between Snailwell and numerous other stations no less than eleven times between their first arrival, and their last departure to RAF Odiham on May 31st 1943.
A Lysander at Duxford’s Battle of Britain Airshow 2019.
In the May of 1941, 268 Sqn would swap their ‘Lizzies’ (as they were affectionately known) for the Tomahawk IIA, an aircraft they kept until changing again to the better performing Mustang I a year later. These Tomahawks would perform a range of duties including – whilst based at RAF Barton Bendish in Norfolk – early morning ‘attacks’ on Snailwell as part of a Station Defence Exercise. These involved mock gas and parachute attacks along with low-level strafing runs. Being little more than a field, Barton Bendish provided no accommodation for visitors, and so the aircrews slept in tents overnight.
During the August of 1941 the first of Snailwell’s many short stay squadrons would arrive. 152 Squadron would use Snailwell for a period of just one week whilst transiting to nearby RAF Swanton Morley. Operating the sleek Spitfire IIA, the brain child of R.J. Mitchell, they would perform fighter sweeps, along with convoy and bomber escort duties. Arriving on the 25th, the only major event occurred on the 28th when the squadron escorted seventeen Blenheims to Rotterdam, Sgt. Savage being the only 152 Sqn pilot to be lost during the mission. The next day, ‘A’ flight searched for signs of him, but sadly found no wreckage nor any sign of Sgt. Savage.
Being a small airfield Snailwell was often home to detachments of squadrons, usually whilst on training. One such unit arriving on November 31st when 137 Sqn posted a detachment here whilst the main body of the squadron stayed at RAF Matlaske further north in Norfolk. Operating the heavily armed escort fighter the Westland Whirlwind, they would perform escort duties for Lysanders, searches for downed aircraft and ‘X’ raid interception duties. Many of their patrols covered Great Yarmouth on the East Anglian coast in an area to the east of the airfield.
Designed in 1937, the Whirlwind had many teething problems with the engines proving to be a particular issue. After purchasing only 112 examples of the model, 137 would be one of only two squadrons who would use it in any operational role. After moving to Matlaske, 137 began a series of training operations, posting a detachment of aircraft to Snailwell whilst preparing to commence anti-shipping operations in the North Sea. Once operationally ready, the unit moved north to RAF Drem (August 1942) before returning once more to Matlaske where further training would take place; ‘B’ Flight replaced ‘A’ Flight at Snailwell until both were reunited at Snailwell in late August. Anti shipping operations continued from Matlaske, with their final sortie occurring on August 20th in which an enemy Ju 88 was intercepted – the aircraft evading its pursuers in bad weather. Moving across to reunite the squadron on the 24th, 137 would perform their first operational sortie from Snailwell in early September, a feint attack against Lille. Designed to attract the Luftwaffe fighters into a trap, the twelve Whirlwinds and their fighter escorts failed to sight one enemy plane and all returned to their respective bases not having fired a shot. After this, the Whirlwinds were fitted with bombs and further training followed, but by mid September, they had left Snailwell and were heading for RAF Manston in Kent.
The summer of 1942 would be a busy period for Snailwell, with several squadrons utilising the airfield. At the end of March 56 (Punjab) Squadron would bring the Hawker Typhoon MK.IA, a model they would begin replacing virtually immediately with the MK.IB. The April of that year was mainly taken up with practice formation flying and aircraft interception flights, before the squadron also moved to Manston in Kent. 56 Sqn would return briefly to Snailwell over the June / August period, but this would be short and they would then depart the airfield for good.
On June 15th 1942, a new squadron would be formed here at Snailwell. Under the command of Sqn. Ldr. F.G. Watson-Smyth, it would have two flights ‘A’ and ‘B’, each led by a Flight Lieutenant. 168 Sqn, initially flying the Curtiss Tomahawk II, was formed from the nucleus of 268 Sqn, and would remain here only until their aircraft and equipment had arrived. Being allocated RAF Bottisham as their main station, they would stay at Snailwell for a mere month. During this time aircraft would have their squadron numbers painted on, and Sqn, Ldr. Spear would give dual flying training to all pilots in a Fairy Battle.
Toward the end of June Sqn. Ldrs. Watson-Smyth and Bowen would visit Bottisham to discuss and prepare the accommodation arrangements for the squadron’s forthcoming arrival. Further deliveries of supplies took place and by the 26th there were seven Tomahawks on charge. On the 13th July, at 14:35 hrs, twelve Tomahawks took off from Snailwell and flew in formation to their new base at Bottisham, a mere stones throw from their current location. The move had begun and 168 Sqn would leave Snailwell for good.
In the August, whilst transiting to North Africa, 614 Sqn would place a detachment of their Blenheim Vs here, a further detachment being placed at Weston Zoyland with the main body of the squadron at Odiham. Coinciding with this was also a detachment of 239 Sqn with Mustang Is, making Snailwell a very diverse station indeed.
With the arrival of autumn in the October of 1942, Snailwell took a very different turn, being handed over to the US Ninth Air Force Service Command who brought in the Airacobra, one of the few wartime fighters to use a tricycle undercarriage. Transferring across from Duxford, the parent airfield of Snailwell, the 347th Fighter Squadron (FS) were a brand new squadron, only being activated that very same month.
In part two we see the early American influence, and how this small grass airfield played its part in the build up to D-day.
William G. Rueckert (service Number: 0 -420521) was born September 9th 1920, in Moline, Illinois. At school, he became a model student, achieving high grades throughout his school life. Upon leaving, he won a place at Illinois University where he wanted to study Law. Rueckert had a passion for reading, particularly the classics like Shakespeare and Proust and was known for his hard work and dedication.
It was at University that he met, on a blind date, he wife to be, ‘Dee’. The meeting almost never took place due to a faulty car, but as a lover of dancing, they turned out to be the perfect match and his lateness was forgiven.
Inseparable as a couple, Rueckert and Dee were married only a year later, in 1940, when Rueckert was just 19 years old.
War came even closer, and Rueckert decided he had to do his part and joined up with the Army, on July 15th 1941. Based at Pine Camp, New York, he was part of the 4th Armoured Division, and his hard work and dedication was very quickly realised; he soon won himself an award on the firing range. Constant passionate letters home cemented the love between Rueckert and Dee, in one letter he said; “My life, my love and all my hope all lie in my wife Dee!”
Rueckert’s life then changed and he joined the USAAC. As a trainee pilot, he moved from New York, to California and then onto New Mexico where he gained the qualification of Pilot instructor on October 28th 1943.
Whilst flying here at New Mexico, the plane Rueckert was in, a B-24, collided with a small training aircraft killing its pilot. Rueckert managed to land his own B-24 and following his actions, was credited with saving the lives of the crewmen on board.
Finally, the draw of the war led Rueckert to requesting a post overseas. He was sent to RAF Hardwick, Norfolk to join the 409th BS, 93rd BG, 20th Combat Wing, Eighth Airforce, in April 1944. Formed only two years earlier on 22nd April 1942, the 409th was to be Rueckert’s only operational squadron. Having won three DUCs already for operations over Europe including; the raid on the Romanian oil fields at Ploesti, and the enormous raid of February 1944 ‘Big Week’, the 93rd were a battle hardened group.
“Ted’s Flying Circus” as they were to be known, took part in the preparations for D-Day, completing much of their bombing missions over the Normandy area, cutting supply lines and communication routes across France.
Rueckert’s first and only mission, was on May 1st 1944. It was to be a night flight. He joined his best friend along with his assigned pilot Second Lieutenant Albert Schreiner (0-805532) on B-24 ‘Joy Ride‘ #42-7621, leaving his regular crew behind at Hardwick.
The aircraft, began its roll down the runway, as it neared the take off point, it is thought the undercarriage collapsed causing a catastrophic crash in which seven bombs exploded. The aircraft was completely destroyed and five of the crew killed including the pilot and Lt. Rueckert. The crash was so intense, it closed one of the three enormous runways for five days.
Dee, Rueckert’s wife, found out by telegraph that her husband had been killed. She was understandably devastated as were the two young children, Billy and Dianne.
Rueckert’s body was initially buried at Madingley Cemetery, Cambridge, but later he was repatriated and buried in the family plot in Illinois. His purple Heart, awarded earlier, has since been donated by his son Billy, to the church at Topcroft, where Rueckert prayed the night before that fatal flight. A plaque also sits in the wall in remembrance of the 668 men who never returned to Hardwick. Rueckert’s name appears in the St Paul’s Cathedral Roll of Honour, on page 365.
During March 1944, an event took place in the UK that considering its historical importance, is little known about. It was actually quite a momentous event, especially in terms of aviation history, and in particular the Second World War.
As a follow on to RAF Glatton and Trail 6, we look into the short-lived presence of Boeing’s mighty aircraft the B-29 ‘Superfortress’, in what would appear to be its first and only wartime presence on British soil.
At the time of the bombing of Pearl Harbour in 1941, the United States was less than ready for a global war. The retaliation and defeat of not only Japan, but Nazi Germany as well, was going to be both costly and massive, requiring a huge increase in manufacturing of both arms and machinery.
This increase meant not only aircraft for the Air Force, but the infrastructure to support and train the aircrews too. A network of airfields and supporting organisations totalling some $100 million in 1940, would, by the war’s end be valued in the region of $3,000 million. In terms of size, this infrastructure would cover an area of land equal to the combined areas of: New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, and Connecticut.*1
To complete the task, along with aiding her allies, the U.S. was going to need to design and manufacture many new models of aircraft, aircraft that would outshine anything previously made available to the U.S. forces. Long range bombers in particular, capable of travelling great distances were going to be required – and a lot of them. At the outbreak of the European war, the U.S. Army Air Corps was in comparison to the European forces, very small, commanding just 26,000 officers and enlisted men, and operating only 800 front-line aircraft. The Luftwaffe on the other hand, had expanded considerably over the previous years, now commanding some 3,600 aircraft. The British, who were still some way behind the Germans but growing rapidly, had available to them some 2,000 aircraft, whilst the French could muster slightly over 1,700. *1a
To meet this demand, U.S. aircraft manufacturers were going to have to start by modifying, and with some exceptions, redesigning the various aircraft types that were already available to the U.S. forces. However, and likewise the British and German manufacturers, new models were going to have to be designed and put into production very quickly if victory was to be achieved in any of the world’s theatres.
Preempting war, the US Government put out tenders for long range bombers, in answer to which during the 1930s, the Boeing Model 299, first flew. Eventually being purchased by the US Government to fulfil the role, it was put into production as the iconic B-17 ‘Flying Fortress’, and was followed not long after by the B-24 ‘Liberator’; a more modern aircraft which took its maiden flight in 1939. But sitting on the drawing board at this time, was another aircraft that performed even better, the formidable B-29, a bomber designed to fly at altitudes up to 40,000ft, beyond the range of anti-aircraft guns and faster than many fighters of the time. The aircraft was so advanced in design that depending upon its payload it was capable of flying distances of up to 5,000 miles, far beyond that of any other heavy bomber.
Whilst the U.S. aircraft manufacturers had already begun designing and testing these new models, it would be some time before the number and types of available aircraft would come anywhere close to being comparable to those of the Luftwaffe, R.A.F. or even later, the Imperial Japanese Air Force.
By August 1942 both the development and production of these two heavy bombers, the B-17 and B-24, were well underway, and so it was decided that they would go initially to the European theatre rather than the Far East. The competition for the attack on Japan now lay between the B-29 and Consolidated’s competitor the B-32 ‘Dominator’ – an enlarged and also pressurised version of their B-24. However, two years after the first design drawings were revealed, neither of these aircraft types had yet flown, and so the shorter ranged B-17 and B-24s were going to have to fill the gap until such times as their replacements could arrive.
The war in the Far East would provide its own set of problems. The distance that supplies would have to be taken would take time and before any invasion could take place, lost ground not only had to be recovered, but held. To achieve this, ground forces would need to be protected by an air umbrella, a defensive shield formed so tightly that air supremacy was guaranteed.
Getting supplies into China was difficult, by air it required long and dangerous flights over the ‘Hump’, the Himalayan mountain range, usually fulfilled by C-47s and DC-3s, their commercial equivalent. With the C-46 ‘Commando’ and C-87 coming on line later on, the frequency and quantity of these supplies could increase but it was still not enough for the Chinese, nor for the difficult task ahead.
By March 1943 the stage was set. The Fourteenth Air Force was created out of Maj. Gen. Claire Chennault’s China Air Task Force, which by the summer time, had begun attacks on coastal positions, ports and troop concentrations under Japanese control. This air umbrella was in part achieved over Burma, and the desired attacks on Japan now looked more possible, but the B-17s and B-24s that had worked tirelessly lacked the range to hit the Japanese homeland; the long range high performance B-29 was by now desperately needed.
During the Quebec Conference in August that year, U.S. officials put forward their proposal to stage American long range bombers on airfields in China, the area required for such bases being under Chinese control already and therefore not at the mercy of the Japanese forces. This offensive, designated the Matterhorn Project, would involve the still as yet untested in battle, B-29s, their longer range and larger bomb capacity enabling them to ‘bomb Japan into submission’ in a similar way that Sir Arthur Harris had hoped for in Europe with the RAF’s bombing campaign against Germany’s industrial targets and cities.
To meet these aims a new force would be created, the Twentieth Air Force, which would be made up of two commands: the XX Bomber Command from China and the XXI Bomber Command who would be based in the Mariana Islands after they were retaken from Japanese control.
The aircraft destined to carry out this role, the B-29, was still very much an unknown quantity. Rushed into production with scant attention to testing, it was a monster of an aircraft, with a crew of eleven in pressurised compartments, electronic gun turrets and a massive 141 ft wingspan. The project was to be the biggest in U.S. aviation history, spares alone in the initial contract costing $19.5m, and one which General Arnold
referred to as the “$3 billion gamble”.*1b
The following film “Birth of the B-29 Superfortress” shows a B-29 production line and a test YB-29 in flight. It also contains some short graphic images at the start.
A batch of four XB-29 prototypes were built, and after initial test flights, a further fourteen ‘test’ aircraft, designated the YB-29, were also constructed. But problems with design drawings, missing parts and rushed testing meant that production was slowed to a minimum, part finished aircraft being stored whilst awaiting vital components. After test flights it became apparent that the B-29’s engines were prone to overheating and in several cases catching fire. This delayed further testing reducing flying time considerably until the problems could be solved. During flight tests, this problem with the engines was graphically seen, first on February 18th 1943, and then again a year later.
In February, XB-29 #41-003 (the second prototype XB) crashed into a meat packing factory killing all eight crew on board along with twenty civilians on the ground. The pilot, Eddie Allen, had already received the Air Medal for successfully landing the same XB-29 following another engine fire in the preceding December. A year later, January 29th 1944, engine problems caused yet another accident when #41-36967, the last of the fourteen*2 Wichita YB-29s manufactured, crashed after losing all four engines whilst in the air. This problem with overheating engines becoming the proverbial ‘thorn in the side’ of the Boeing production team.
By the summer of 1943, B-29 training squadrons were being set up, the first, the 58th Bombardment Operational Training Wing (Heavy) later the 58th BW (Very Heavy), was formed with the 40th, 444th, 462nd, 468th and 472nd Bombardment Groups, each with four or five squadrons of their own.
After a period of training four of these groups (the 472nd was disbanded April 1944) would transfer to India flying via Africa to join the Twelfth Air Force initially flying supplies over ‘the Hump’, before taking part in operations against Japan from the Chinese airfields.
Departure for these groups occurred over the March – April 1944 period, during which time one of these aircraft would divert to the U.K. causing a huge stir whilst ‘touring’ several U.K. airbases.
Whilst precise sources seem scarce, it is thought that flying B-29s across the southern route raised fears of a Luftwaffe attack whilst en-route, and so a plan of ‘disinformation’ was set in motion to fool the Germans into thinking that the B-29s were to be based in England, ready to be used against German targets. The first part of this ruse was in early March 1944, when YB-29 #41-36963 ‘Hobo Queen‘ took off from Salina Airbase in Kansas and flew to England. It initially took the southern route toward Africa, but then deviated north heading to Newfoundland. The YB-29, piloted by Colonel Frank Cook, then flew across to the UK initially landing at RAF St. Mawgan, in Cornwall.
During its short stay in the U.K. it was known to have visited RAF Horsham St. Faith near Norwich, RAF Bassingbourn on the 8th March, RAF Knettishall and RAF Glatton on 11th March before its final departure from RAF St. Mawgan to India in April that year. The route took the YB-29 to Marrakech, Cairo (2nd April), Karachi (5th Apr) finally arriving at Kharagpur, India, on 6th Apr 1944 . Once here, it was assigned to the 769th Bomb Squadron, 462nd Bomb Group who were then based at Piardoba in India, where it was modified as a tanker to ferry fuel over ‘the Hump’. The YB-29, the only test model to fly overseas, gave a successful service, eventually being declared war weary and returned to the United States, its eventual fate being unknown, presumably, like many war weary models, the aircraft was scrapped.*3
Whilst in the U.K. the YB-29 was certainly a major draw, over 1,000 key personnel viewing the aircraft at RAF Glatton alone, its enormous size dwarfing anything that had been seen in U.K. skies before.
The ruse was considered a success. The many B-29s that followed across the southern route did so without any interference from German aircraft, although how much of that was actually down to the ruse itself, is hard to distinguish. It is even thought in some circles that photos of the ‘Hobo Queen‘ appeared in the newspaper of the National Socialist German Workers’ Party, The Völkischer Beobachter, although an initial search of the paper through the Austrian National Library proved fruitless.
Crews and ground staff swarm around B-29 #41-36963 at Glatton airfield 11th March 1944*4.
Although B-29s were initially considered for the European theatre none operated from British soil until after the wars end, when a joint British and American operation, Project ‘Ruby‘*5, investigated deep penetration bombs against reinforced concrete structures. Three B-29s were prepared in the United States along with four B-17s and a select detachment of admin, maintenance, technical staff and air crew, who arrived at RAF Marham, Norfolk, on March 15th 1946. Initial plans were to test a series of bombs on the submarine assembly plant at Farge, but due to the close proximity of housing and an electricity plant, the U-boat shelter at Heligoland was used instead. The bombing trials began on March 25th by which time an original three B-17s from RAF Mildenhall had also joined the group.
A number of both American and British bombs were tested in the trials:
The US 22,000lb. ‘Amazon’ bomb
The US rocket assisted 4,500lb. ‘Disney’ bomb (used by B-17s in the latter stages of the war)
The 4,500lb. ‘Disney’ bomb without rocket assistance
The American 22,000lb. fabricated ‘Grand Slam’ (designated T14)
The American 12,000lb. fabricated ‘Tall Boy’ (designated T10)
The British 12,000lb, ‘Tall Boy’
The British 2,000lb. Armour Piercing bomb
The inert loaded 2,000lb. SAP (M103) bomb
The Picratol filled 2,000lb. SAP (M103) bomb
The 1,650lb. Model bomb
The results of the trials were quite conclusive, none of these bombs in their current form, were capable of penetrating the 23 ft thick concrete of the Farge roof, and therefore, all would need adapting, redeveloping or redesigning if such operations were to be carried out again.
Post war, B-29s were brought into the UK and operated as Boeing Washington B1s, operating with nine RAF Squadrons: No. 15, 35, 44, 57, 90, 115, 149, 192 and 207 at various airfields including RAF Marham, RAF Coningsby, RAF Watton and RAF Waddington, eventually being replaced by the high flying English Electric Canberra. The B-29 then disappeared from operational service in the UK.
Without doubt, the development of the B-29 had a major impact on the world as we know it today, and even though its first arrival in the UK in March 1944 caused a major stir in the aviation world, it incredibly remains a little known about clear fact. With little documentation available, there is clearly much more research to be done.
Since the original posting of this article, I have been contacted by Daniel Partridge whose grandfather (Leon Suthers) was at Randolph Field in the United States, after the war’s end. He has sent me some photos of ‘Hobo Queen’ after she returned to the US. According to information Daniel has supplied, she was used as a training airframe from January 1945 until 1954, after which she was scrapped. From the photos, you can see that much of the aircraft has been stripped away, presumably as part of this programme, yet the 45 camel ‘mission scores’ have been left. Further information from Daniel confirms that these Camels represent flights ‘over the hump’. My sincere thanks to Daniel for the information.
Hobo Queen Post War (Photo courtesy Daniel Partridge)
Hobo Queen Post War (Photo courtesy Daniel Partridge)
Sources and further reading.
*1 Nalty, B., et al. “With Courage The U.S. Army Air Forces in World War II” 1994. Air Force Historical Studies Office (p61)
*1a ibid (p38)
*1b ibid (p147)
*2 Only 14 YB-29BWs were built (#41-36954 – #41-36967) and all at Wichita. They were painted olive drab upper surfaces and light gull grey lower surfaces.
*3 MSN 3334.
*4 Image courtesy of 457th BG Association.
*5 Comparative Test of the Effectiveness of Large Bombs Against Large Reinforced Concrete Structures (PDF), Report of the Air Proving Ground Command, Elgin Field, Florida – Anglo-American Bomb Test Project “Ruby”. October 31st, 1946.
During the Second World War, Britain’s landscape changed forever. The friendly invasion brought new life, new music, rationed items became sought after bounties and they were plentiful – if you knew an American. But this dramatic change in the British way of life could also be explosive and deadly.
Anyone living near to a wartime airfield knew only too well the risks of such a life. Aircraft could ground loop, collide in the air or suffer a major mechanical failure on take off, all of which could result in a massive explosion in a fully laden bomber. There are numerous recordings of such accidents occurring, and the brave attempts of crewmen trying to avoid local housing. One such crash was that of B-17 #42-39825, “Zenobia” which crashed on take off coming to rest in the nearby village of Deenethorpe. Luckily, the crew were able to escape and warn the locals of the impending danger, thus averting a catastrophe when the aircraft, fully laden with bombs and fuel, exploded twenty minutes later. The explosion was so fierce that it was heard nine miles away!
However, not everyone was as lucky, and on August 23rd 1944, Wartime Britain experienced what is considered its worst wartime air disaster. A disaster in which sixty-one people lost their lives when a USAAF aircraft from BAD2 at RAF Warton crashed into the adjacent village of Freckleton in Lancashire.
Warton, or BAD2 (Base Air Depot No. 2), was responsible for the modification and overhaul of US aircraft and engines when they arrived fresh from the United States. They were assembled, modified and transferred from here to front line operational airfields across the UK. A massive operation that began even before the United States had even entered the War.
Initially, Warton was built as a satellite for the RAF Coastal Command station at Blackpool, known at the time as Squires Gate Airfield, an airfield with a history going as far back as 1909. With many pleasure flights, air pageants and civil flights, it was eventually taken over and used for fighters and bombers of Coastal Command.
With many aircraft being shipped into the UK via the Atlantic during the early years of the war, the need for a site to build and then maintain them became evermore apparent and urgent. It was not long after the outbreak of war, that four such sites were earmarked for use by the USAAF as Air Depots, each one dealing solely with aircraft maintenance and refurbishment. The proposal, initiated by Lord Beaverbrook as early as October 1939, which then progressed through discussions between the American and the British Governments in 1941 , specified that these bases would need to be able to deal with large quantities of aircraft and be able to handle aircraft modifications at any stage of the assembly process. In October, these bases were identified by a consortium of American and British representatives, who selected: Warton, Little Staughton (Bedford), Burtonwood (Warrington) and Langford Lodge in Neagh, Northern Ireland, as the most suitable sites.
Warton would be massive, housing almost 16,000 people in over ten accommodation sites, which when compared to a normal Class A airfield of some 3,000 people, was an enormous conurbation. To be adaptable, the runway was strengthened and extended to match that of any wartime airfield, at almost 2,000 yards long, it could take any aircraft brought over from the United States. Along side this were a wide range of ancillary buildings: stores, maintenance sheds, office blocks, hangars, engine test sheds and fifty dispersal points. As the war progressed, Warton was extended further with the largest European storage shed and further hangars being added in 1944.
The entire site was completed in just nine months, using a combination of construction groups led by Frank Thomas; this included both Alfred McAlpine, and Wimpey, two of the largest airfield contractors at that time.
Station 582 of the US Eighth Air Force was opened August 1942, housing a small contingent of USAAF personnel. Officially handed over to the USAAF a year later, it now had some 5,000 personnel on its books already, all specially trained to handle the unique American aircraft being brought over from the United States.
Each base would specialise, Burtonwood in radial engines and the B-17, whilst Warton concentrated on in-line engines and B-24s. However, that did not mean that this was a ‘closed door’ operation, Warton would, over the period of the war, see every example of US built aircraft pass though its doors, and at its peek, held over 800 aircraft within its grounds.
Living near such a large and active base would bring many benefits, 700, children were given a Christmas party that lasted for a week, the locals were well provided for and money poured into the local economy. However being so close also brought it dangers. There were numerous accidents with parked aircraft being hit as other aircraft taxied past. There were also several crashes, including a North American P-51D-5-NA Mustang #44-13403 that crashed on June 12th, 1944, killing its pilot. The accident being caused by a catastrophic structural failure of the wing assembly. Another P-51D #44-14608 (310th Ferry Squadron, 27th Aircraft Transport Group) was involved in a landing accident at Warton, on October 5th, 1944. The pilot survived, but the aircraft was destroyed in the crash.
Then there was the P-51B-5 #43-6623 that crashed after taking off from Liverpool’s Speke airport, it was was subsequently taken to Warton where it was combined with other parts of P-51Bs that had been dropped on delivery. The new aircraft, aptly named ‘Spare parts‘, would then be used as an unarmed two-seater ferrying VIPs around, delivering small spare parts to the other airfields and collecting supplies of of whiskey from a distillery in Glasgow. The aircraft itself was lost in late 1944 when it experienced engine failure. The two crew bailed out and survived but the aircraft crashed coming to a rest at the bottom of the Irish Sea.
One of the more terrible accidents at Warton involved the collision of two Douglas A-26B-10-DT Invaders, on November 29th 1944, when #43-22298 collided in midair with #43-22336 over Warton Marsh. The crews’ bodies were removed from the site, but the aircraft remained buried in the silt until excavation in 2004. Both aircraft were then transferred to the RAF Millom Museum at Haverigg, Cumbria where they remained until its closure on 1st September 2010. With many of it exhibits being ‘on loan’, they were returned to their original owners whilst the rest were publicly auctioned off in January 2011. The fate of the two Invaders is unknown at the time of writing.
However, it was on Wednesday, August 23rd 1944, that Warton would be shocked by Britain’s worst wartime air disaster and the terrible events that would unfold that day.
Everything appeared normal that day as the workers at BAD 2 and the surrounding area awoke. The news was generally good, the war was heading in the right direction and victory for the allies appeared to be on the cards. There were high pressure zones to the east and west and low pressure to the north. The first 2 weeks of August were generally dry and warm with spells of sunshine. There had been a spell of warm weather that continued into the third week, with temperatures reaching as high as 28°C in the south. On the 23rd, early sunshine was expected to change to light rain later on, nothing that should have caused any significant problems to the experienced crews at Warton.
Early on that day, two routine test flights were booked by experienced pilots on newly refurbished Consolidated B-24 Liberators before they were sent out out to the 2nd Bomb Division. The first, piloted by First Lieutenant John Bloemendal, ‘Classy Chassis II‘, and the second piloted by First Lieutenant Peter Manassero.
After a delayed start, First Lt. Bloemendal and his two crewmen boarded the B-24, ran their ground checks and started the engines. They then departed on was was a routine test flight. Meanwhile, the second B-24 piloted by First Lt. Manassero also departed and both aircraft headed out from Warton. During this time a weather warning was passed to Warton tower informing them of an impending storm, the likes of which even the British had rarely seen. The notorious British weather had played a cruel joke. In seconds, the summer sky had turned jet black. Daylight had been all but wiped out, Heavy rain lashed the landscape, localised flash floods and unprecedented strong winds battered the Warton skyline. Locals reported seeing trees being uprooted and buildings being damaged such was the strength of the wind and lashing rain.
The tower issued an immediate warning to land the two aircraft. B-24 #42-50291 “Classy Chassis II“, was given clearance first, the second flown by First Lieutenant Manassero was to come in next. With visibility down to some 500 yards, the two aircraft approached the airfield in close formation, simply to keep in visual contact. Bloemendal lowered his undercarriage followed by Manassero. Bloemendal then began his approach, suddenly retracting his undercarriage informing Manassero he was going round again for another try. But by now, the weather had deteriorated so much that the tower was extremely concerned, and issued an order, to both aircraft, to withdraw from the circuit and abort landings, telling them to fly to the north to avoid the storm. Bloemendal never received the message.
By now contact had been lost between the two pilots, Manassero headed out of the circuit and flew out of harms way, Bloemendal on the other hand had already hit the ground, a massive fireball ensued. Eye witness accounts differed as to what the cause of the crash was, one witness said she saw lightning strike the aircraft at the wing root, “splitting the aircraft in two“, others say they saw the wings in a near vertical position as if the pilot was banking steeply to turn away.
The aircraft came down across Lytham Road, after hitting the ‘Sad Sack Snack Bar’, purposefully built for the American servicemen of BAD 2. It demolished three houses and the infant section of Freckleton’s Holy Trinity School, which at the time, was full of children between the ages of 4 and 6 who, along with their teachers, were going about their daily routine. The resultant crash led to a fireball, one that eventually took the lives of sixty-one people. Eighteen in the cafe, forty in the school and the three crewmen aboard “Classy Chassis II“. Many of these dying in the days that followed from severe burns as burning petrol engulfed the school before flowing into the street .
The crash was so devastating that at the inquest, only the School’s register could be used to identify some of the missing children whilst others were identified merely by parts of their clothing painfully presented to grieving parents. First Lieutenant John Bloemendal was only identified by the remains of his dog tags and wedding ring, the only married man aboard the aircraft.
The US servicemen from BAD2 were highly praised in the days that followed for their quick and brave response to the crash. Pulling away debris while the aircraft still burned, attempting to put out the fire and fighting to save whomever they could from the burning wreck that was once Freckleton village school.
The papers understandably ran the story for months and even years afterwards, as more and more information came to light. Some of the injured were so severely burned, they were read their last rights, whilst many had to have long term skin grafts, including some as part of McIndoe’s Guinea Pig Club.
From Lytham St. Annes, to London and New York, the story of Britain’s worst air disaster spread, putting good news from the front line into painful perspective. Whilst convalescing, young survivors were visited by Bing Crosby, who diverted from his tour of American airfields across the UK, to pay his respects. A small gesture to avert the grieving now felt across both sides of the ocean.
A mass funeral service took place in Freckleton on August 26th, the streets were lined with mourners as service personnel carried the many tiny coffins along in one mass parade. Afterwards, a fund was set up by the USAAF, and an area of land was developed into a playground as a lasting memorial to those lost in the accident. A tablet laid at the playground reads: “This playground presented to the children of Freckleton by their neighbours of Base Air Depot No. 2 USAAF in recognition and remembrance of their common loss in the disaster of August 23rd 1944”.
The inquest into the crash could not prove conclusively as to the cause of the crash. It states:
“The cause of this accident is unknown. It is the opinion of the Accident Investigating Committee that the crash resulted from pilot’s error in the judgement of the violence of the storm. The extent of the thunder-head was not great and he could have flown in perfect safety to the North and East of the field”.
It also states that a possible “rough air structural failure occurred“, although verification of this was impossible due to the total destruction of the aircraft’s structure.
Crowds line the street as US Servicemen carry the many coffins at Freckleton (Photo Ralph Scott, BAD2)
What did arise from the crash was that US service personnel who were trained in the bright blue skies of America, were unaccustomed to the changeable and fierce British weather. Many, like First Lieutenant Bloemenda, often under-estimating the dangers of these thunderstorms and as a result, training was amended to include warnings about such events.
With the eventual withdrawal of US forces from Warton, the memories of that day linger on, regular services are held at Frekleton in remembrance of those sixty-one lives who were all innocent victims of Britain’s worst air disaster of World War Two.
Sources and Further reading
There are many sites that cover this story, in particular I refer you to:
The Book “The Freckleton, England, Air Disaster” by James R. Hedtke, details the accident in depth giving eyewitness accounts, background details and transcripts of the conversations between pilots and the tower. It served as a valuable source of information for this post and is worth buying if interested in reading about this further.
Also, the book ‘Blood and Fears‘ by Kevin Wilson, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson) also briefly mentions accounts of the event. Again a good book should you wish to read further.
June 22nd 2019, the day of the unveiling of the memorial to the crews of two 379th Bomb Group B-17s that collided over Allhallows, Kent on June 19th 1944.
The day finally arrived, after six months of organising, emailing, badgering and beavering away, Mitch Peeke’s vision of a memorial for the crew of B-17 #44-6133 piloted by 2nd Lieutenant Armand Ramacitti, finally arrived.
A break in what had been many days of storms and heavy rain allowed the sun to shine on this, a quiet corner on the northern coast of Kent. A place which overlooks the mud flats of the Thames Estuary, with Essex and Southend beyond. A place where like minded people gathered to pay their respects to the brave crew of a B-17 that fought tirelessly in the skies of Europe during World War II.
Flanked by two authentic World War II jeeps, reenactors and an Air Cadet Guard of Honour, Mitch Peeke took centre stage and reminded us why we were here. With the ‘Stars and Stripes’ flapping in the wind, Mitch told the story of the two aircraft that collided in the skies above, an accident in which eleven young men lost their lives almost 75 years ago to the day.
The Thames Estuary were the B-17 came down.
A solemn silence fell as Mitch then introduced two living relatives of that crew, Jeanne Cronis-Campbell (the daughter of Bombardier Second Lieutenant Theodore ‘Teddy‘ Chronopolis) and Noel Togazzini (nephew of Flight engineer/top turret gunner: Staff Sergeant Cecil Tognazzini), who had flown over all the way from the United States for this special occasion.
The sound of TAPS then resonated across the site, after which Jeanne and Noel lifted the flag from the plaque. The Reverend Steven Gwilt then blessed the memorial, and lead the gathered in prayers of remembrance.
Jeanne and Noel unveil the memorial.
The silence prevailed, people’s thoughts perhaps turning to that day in 1944, and what must have been going through the minds of those young men as they battled to get out of that B-17 as it fell perilously towards Earth and a decisive fate.
Mitch then stepped forward once more, introduced the band who lightened the moment with their collection of well known 1940’s music. The band played on throughout the afternoon, the drinks flowed and friendships were forged. Just as in the 1940s, hands that had stretched across the sea were now hands together, stories and personal moments were shared, it was like meeting an old friend.
The Memorial at Allhallows.
The day was more than a success, it was a celebration of life. A celebration that now sees a memorial, long since missed, standing as close as it can to the point of impact, where all but one of the Ramacitti crew died.
My own personal thanks go to Mitch for the hard work he put in to organising the event, to both Jeanne and Noel, for sharing their stories and also to Geoff Burke for sharing stories of his own personal voyage to this point.
Most of all though, I would like to thank the crew of B-17 #44-6133, who fought so bravely for the freedom we all enjoy today.
The crew of #44-6133 were:
Pilot: Second Lieutenant Armand Ramacitti
Co-pilot: Second Lieutenant William ‘Bill’ Hager
Navigator: First Lieutenant Donald ‘Don’ Watson
Flight engineer/top turret gunner: Staff Sergeant Cecil Tognazzini
Radio Operator: Sergeant Richard ‘Dick’ Ritter
Ball turret gunner: Staff Sergeant John Burke
Waist gunner: Corporal Paul Haynes
Tail gunner: Sergeant Warren Oaks (his second mission)
Bombardier: Second Lieutenant Theodore Chronopolis
The full story of the accident can be read in Mitch’s guest post “A Long Way From Home.”
Mitch, Jeanne and Noel.
World War II Jeep ‘Jezebel’.
Geoff’s print of the two B-17s signed by some surviving members of the crew and relatives. Many of these crewmen have now passed on.
The end of training flights in the Second World War in the quiet and blue skies of the United States, were occasionally ‘celebrated’ with flyovers and ‘buzzing’ of the home town of family or girl friends. Whilst this unofficial activity was frowned upon, in general, a blind eye was turned by Commanding Officers of the various Groups. However, one such activity was not taken quite so lightly, and almost led to the end of a promising career before it had even started.
At RAF Molesworth (Station 107) not far from Huntingdon, Cambridgeshire, the 303rd Bomb Group (BG) had been serving the Allied offensive since mid September 1942. They had taken heavy casualties after participating in many prestige missions including the disastrous August and October raids on the ball-bearing plant at Schweinfurt. The invincibility of the heavily armed B-17 was very quickly shown to be a myth.
After a period of calm, primarily due to persistent bad weather rather than any significant strategic military decision, the USAAF was allowed unofficial time to recuperate, rebuild and rearm. During this period, new recruits and aircraft poured into the United Kingdom via either the Northern or the Southern transit routes over the Atlantic Ocean.
On one of these aircraft was Lt. Jack Watson, a ‘green’ pilot’ who had recently completed his training, and was now on his way to fight in a war a long way from his Indianapolis home.
A fresh faced 2nd Lt. Jack Watosn who bravely brought home his burning and crippled B-17 bomber after ordering his crew to bail out. (IWM UPL 32160)
On eventual arrival at Molesworth, Lt. Watson was soon to experience for himself the horrors and reality of war. On January 11th 1944, he was part of a 291 bomber force attacking both the FW190 production factory as Oschersleben and the Junkers factory at Halberstadt, Germany. On what became one of the blackest days for the Group, eleven out of the forty aircraft dispatched were lost, an attrition rate of just over 25%, which was also the highest loss of the entire force.
On the inward flight, the weather, which had dogged much of the winter, closed in over the continent. A recall message was sent out, the 2nd and 3rd Divisions turning for home, but it was ignored by Brigadier General Robert F. Travis, 1st Bombardment Division Commander in the lead plane – ‘The Eight Ball‘. Original orders were to bomb by visual methods but if cloud cover prevailed then pathfinder Liberators were to mark the target.
As the weather had deteriorated, cloud being present as high as 24,000 feet, fighter cover was all but withdrawn. The bombers were now virtually on their own and much smaller in number.
Alerted early on, the Luftwaffe had managed to formate an enormous welcoming party for the now weakened force. It would be the strongest collection of Luftwaffe aircraft since the October raids, and it was waiting, eager for blood.
The first contact between the two forces was made over the shallow waters of the Zuiderzee on the inward flight. A collection of rocket-firing fighters launched a gruesome attack on the lead section of the 303rd, an attack that lasted for several hours and took out numerous aircraft.
From the Initial point (IP) to the target, flak was light but accurate, more aircraft took hits and further damage was sustained by the formation. Those bombers that did get through managed to bomb the target, the accuracy of which was considered ‘excellent’.
On the return flight B-17F #42-29524 ‘Meat Hound‘, piloted by Lt. Jack Watson was attacked again by waves of enemy fighters who zoned in on the bomber and its supporting formation. With many aircraft now crippled, the B-17s were easy targets for the fierce and determined Luftwaffe defenders.
Lt. Watson’s aircraft, (a B-17F-55-BO, which had previously been assigned to the 306th BG transferring to the 303rd in July 1943), was hit hard over Durgerdam. The damage looked terminal, two engines were on fire, there was substantial damage around the wing root and the left elevator had been shot completely off. With such damage, not only was the aircraft difficult to control but it was losing vital airspeed and altitude as well.
Lt Watson, gave the bail out order, holding the aircraft steady until all the crew had departed. Lt. Watson, who had by then put the aircraft on automatic pilot, was himself preparing to jump, but the thought of the cold waters below forced his retreat to the cockpit and the challenge of getting home alone.
Of those who did jump, four fell into the Ijsselmeer and sadly drowned, and another four were caught by occupying forces and sent to POW camps. The ninth, Lt. Col. Clayton David, the Co-Pilot, managed to evade capture eventually making his way back to England. Clayton’s journey took him through Holland and Belgium and on into France, where he headed south, eventually crossing the Pyrenees into Spain. From there, he reached Gibraltar eventually returning to England in May 1944, four months after he was reported as ‘Missing in Action.’ For his efforts he received the Purple Heart*1.
Lt. Watson, now alone in the crippled B-17 fought on, keeping the aircraft flying toward England. Once over home territory he brought the aircraft down through the thick cloud that had dogged so many of Britain’s airfields that winter, landing at RAF Metfield, an American Fighter airfield home at that time to the 353rd Fighter Group.
So severe was the fire on the aircraft that it took fire crews a considerable time to extinguish it. These crews were not only amazed to see just one crewman exit the aircraft, but also to find an unexploded shell sitting directly behind the pilots seat.
B-17 ‘Meat Hound‘ on the ground at Metfield, Suffolk after landing with two burning engines. The aircraft was subsequently written off and salvaged for usable parts. (IWM UPL 32171).
On his arrival back at Molesworth, Lt Watson received a telegram sent by New York Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia, forgiving Watson for his villainous activity previously in late 1943.
It was at this time that Watson along with three other pilots; 2nd Lts. Robert Sheets, Elmer Young, and Joseph Wheeler, buzzed the World Series game between St. Louis Cardinals and the New York Yankees at the Yankee Stadium, New York. Mayor LaGuardia was so incensed by the action at the time, that he insisted Watson and the others be disciplined, court martial proceedings being instigated as soon as the four landed in Maine*2.
However, it was not to be, the top brass needing every aircraft and crewman they could muster, sent the four on their way with a $75 fine and a stiff telling off!
Although tinged by the sad loss of his crew, the villain of the World Series’ Buzzing, had gone on to prove himself more than a worthy pilot, making history in more ways than one.
A Boeing B-17 ‘buzzes’ the Yankee stadium October 5th 1943. (Author unknown).*3
The crew of ‘Meat Hound‘ were:
Pilot – 2nd Lt. Jack Watson (Returned to Duty)
Co-Pilot – Lt Col. Clayton David (Evaded)
Navigator – 2nd Lt. John Leverton (POW)
Radio Operator – Stf. Sgt. Harry Romaniec (KIA)
Bombardier – 2nd Lt. Vance Colvin (KIA)
Flight Engineer/Top Turret Gunner – Stf. Sgt. Sam Rowland (POW)
Right Waist Gunner – Sgt. William Fussner (KIA)
Left Waist Gunner – Gene Stewart (POW)
Tail Gunner – Sgt. Roman Kosinski (POW)
Ball Turret Gunner – Sgt. Fred Booth (KIA)
The B-17F, #42-29524, was delivered to Denver 31st December 1942; then assigned to the 423rd BS (306th BG) as ‘RD-D’ at Thurleigh 2nd March 1943. It was later transferred to the 358th BS (303rd BG) as ‘VK-K’ based at Molesworth on 30th July 1943.
For their efforts in this mission, the 303rd Bomb Group were awarded a Distinguished Unit Citation, the only time the entire unit achieved such an accolade.
In the last two parts (Part 1 and Part 2) of RAF Glatton – a short lived airfield with a big history, we see the war draw to a close and those left at Glatton begin dreaming of home. But as the year turns to 1945, there is still plenty to do and many more missions to fulfil.
January 1945 and Glatton’s 457th continued the battle, returning to skies over Germany once more. This time they were assigned to the oil refinery at Derben, an industrial target sitting on the banks of the Elbe to the west of Berlin. A massed and concentrated attack, it saw all the 1st Air Division in operation along with both the 2nd and 3rd Air Divisions. In all 850 B-17s and B-24s were launched that winter’s day. With cloud covering large parts of the continent, targets were difficult to find, the Group had to deviate from both its primary and secondary targets, as neither could be seen for visual bombing. Instead Kassel was chosen as a target of opportunity, and the bomb run made. Again, cloud covered much of the area, but the target itself was found to be clear and so the formation followed a Pathfinder force and bombed on their markers.
Whilst Flak was light, it was considered accurate, with fourteen aircraft being damaged, but thankfully there were no 457th losses that day, and all crews returned to Glatton safely. It was during this mission that B-17 #42-38021 “Mission Maid” achieved her seventy-fifth mission, a remarkable achievement for any heavy bomber of the Second World War. In February she would be forced down onto French soil, after which she was declared ‘War Weary’ and transferred No. 5 SAD where she was modified to carry lifeboats. In July 1945 she was then transferred to the United States where she was sold for scrap metal. During her operational life ‘Mission Maid‘ was credited with the downing of eight enemy aircraft – a sad end to a glorious career.
B-17G #42-38021 “Mission Maid” ‘K’ 748th BS at Glatton *7
The cold winter of 1944 / 45 also saw the German’s last-ditch effort to defeat the allied forces on the ground. With a massed counter attack through the Ardennes forests in what became famously called the ‘Battle of the Bulge’, the Germans surrounded the town of Bastogne and the 101st Airborne. The Glatton crews supported the ground troops by attacking resupply lines behind enemy lines, including the numerous failed attempts at the Remagen Bridge.
As the Allies fought their way over the Rhine, the Glatton crews were there in support attacking other targets behind German lines.
On April 20th 1945, the 457th flew their final operational mission, attacking the marshalling yards at Seddin, to the south of Berlin. With the end of the war just around the corner there was little resistance from either ground forces or the Luftwaffe, none of the 457th aircraft taking hits or suffering any damage, it was virtually a ‘milk run’.
Following VE day, the 457th flew POWs back from Europe to England, then with no further action to undertake, the airfield was handed back to the RAF’s No. 3 Group under the control of Bomber Command operating both the Avro Lancaster and Consolidated B-24 Liberators flying out to the Middle East.
By June the war for the 457th was over. The men and machines were transferred back to the United States with the aircraft leaving Glatton between May 19th and 23rd, and the ground echelons sailing on the Queen Elizabeth from Gourock in Scotland, at the end of June. After arriving at New York there was 30 days rest before the men assembled at Sioux Falls. Here the axe fell and the 457th was no more, the four squadrons being disbanded for good and the Group removed from the Air Forces inventory. Glatton was eventually closed and the site was sold off in 1948.
The 50ft high Braithwaite water tower is virtually the only surviving structure at Glatton. Thus stands on the edge of the former Site 7.
The 457th had been short-lived. They had taken part in many of Europe’s major battles, seen action over Normandy, the breakout at St. Lo, supported the Airborne attack on Holland and the crossing over the Rhine into Germany itself. They had bombed many of Germany’s major cities, including the heart of the German Reich, Berlin. In all, the 457th flew 236 missions, dropping 17,000 tons of bombs, and destroying 33 enemy fighters (along with 12 probable and 50 damaged). They lost a total of 83 aircraft to enemy action, with a small number being scrapped following accidents and heavy flak damage.
Glatton quickly returned to agriculture. The vast technical area was demolished, concrete tracks were dug up and buildings removed. Two of the three runways however, remained, and during the 1970s flying activity began to return once more. The main runway was resurfaced, and is now used by the Peterborough Business Airport whilst the second runway remains in its original concrete but unlicensed for any aviation activity. The third runway has been turned into the road that traverses the site, but all other hard tracks have all but gone.
The original control tower was demolished years ago but a new one has been built and flying continues in the form of microlight, helicopter and fixed wing training.
All Saints Church Memorial looking toward the airfield.
At the nearby All Saints Church in Conington, a memorial stands with the bust of a pilot looking over toward the field as if watching for lost comrades to return, a poignant and moving figure, it has gradually and very sadly begun to look rather unkempt. A further memorial has been erected adjacent to the only substantial building left, a water tower at what was the original entrance to the site next to the main A1 road. This tower now stands as a reminder of the days when B-17s would rumble over the fields on their way to occupied Europe, perhaps never to return. A small display is available in the flying school offices, a reminder to the budding flyers of today of the strong history and heritage of RAF Glatton.
From Glatton, the Trail continues on south. Here we find the second site of this trip, another American air base, that of RAF Kimbolton – home of the 379th BG.
Another update for everyone, probably the final one as the event is now only three weeks away!
Everything is now pretty much “there”. We had a meeting at the Holiday Park to set out a rough timetable for the day which has now been emailed to all interested parties.
I picked up the metal supports for the plaque and storyboard yesterday. Just have to paint them now! They will be a slightly warm shade of blue, with a planished finish.
I finished mounting the plaque and the storyboard onto their respective mahogany pieces last weekend and have to admit that they look quite handsome! Three coats of Ronseal varnish brought the wood out beautifully!
The Holiday Park’s Grounds Team have now started construction of the memorial base. It will be in the form of an elongated diamond (landscape) with the plaque on the left side angled toward the crash site and the storyboard on the right angled slightly inwards toward the reader. The base will be bordered by white painted kerbstones and the whole diamond will be infilled with large plum slate chips. Once installed, the memorial will be covered with a US flag till it is unveiled.
The memorial will be unveiled jointly by Noel Tognazzini and Jeanne Cronis-Campbell; their path to the memorial flanked by an Honour Guard from TWO Squadrons of Air Cadets, whilst TAPS is being blown solo on a trumpet by the Leader of The Medway Big Band, who has been practising diligently, I am told!
After the brief unveiling and dedication ceremony, the Band will be playing the music of Glenn Miller and other relevant music for nearly two hours as a background to everything else that will be going on.
All we need now is for the English weather to smile upon us and it should be a good day and a fine tribute to those lost airmen.
For those who don’t know, the original story as told by Mitch:
June 19th, 1944: Just thirteen days after the Allied D Day Invasion. The weather that day was dry, but the late afternoon sunshine over Kent in Southern England was hazy. A formation of around 30 American B17 “Flying Fortress” bombers from the 379th BG, part of “The Mighty Eighth”, were returning home across the Kent countryside, heading due North, toward their base at Kimbolton, in Huntingdonshire. They were returning from a raid on the V1 launching site at Zudausques in Northern France.
The raiders had taken some Flak, but thankfully, no German fighters had found them. They were doubtlessly busy elsewhere, trying to stem the Allied advances. But the Flak they had encountered had been accurate and had exacted a price from the 379th for their raid. Many of those B17’s were now badly damaged and flying home on three engines rather than four. More of them than not, now had “extra ventilation”, courtesy of the German Flak Gunners, and were trailing heavy smoke from those engines that remained running. However, the B17 was known to be “a good ship”. Inherently stable, it was a remarkable aircraft for its size, able to withstand a hell of a lot of battle damage and still be capable of flying. Many a pilot had been able to “nurse” one home, despite the odds. The crews all had faith in their aircraft. It was a faith that was born from hard experience in hostile skies.
The formation crossed the South coast of England at 21,000 feet. Leading the No. 2 Section was B17 Heavenly Body II, of the 525th Squadron, Captained by 1st Lieutenant Lloyd Burns. A veteran crew, this had been their 29th mission over enemy territory. Just one more mission and the crew would have completed their tour and then they’d be going home, Stateside. The D Day Invasion had of course been keeping them busy. This mission to the V1 site at Zudausques had been their second mission of the day.
Lloyd Burns was an exceptional pilot with an enviable reputation for pulling off the smoothest of landings under any circumstances. The original Heavenly Body had been written off quite recently when the brakes failed on landing. Not even Burns could prevent that aircraft from being a runaway and as the heavy B17 simply ran out of airfield space, she rolled off the end of the runway, down a small hill and straight into a pile of scrap concrete rubble. Miraculously, Burns and his entire crew walked away from that landing. They got a new aircraft and quickly named her Heavenly Body II. (In fact, there were at least 4 other US aircraft named Heavenly Body. Two B29’s, another B17 of the 401st Squadron and at least one B25, all of which had a pin-up girl as nose art). This was now their third mission in the replacement aircraft and although they’d not yet had the time to paint the name and art on the bomber’s nose, the crew had happily settled in to their new ship.
Just after the formation crossed the South coast, Lloyd Burns swapped seats with his co-pilot, 2nd Lieutenant Fred Kauffman. Fred was hoping to get a ship of his own after they completed their tour and had asked Lloyd if he could take over for the descent and landing, as he wanted more 1st pilot experience. Lloyd saw no reason not to. Now as the formation was beginning the let down toward Kimbolton, they gradually lost their height over Kent.
At nearly 18:15, the formation was almost over Allhallows and down to 17,000 feet. Ahead of them, left to right, was the Thames Estuary; even busier than usual, with all sorts of shipping, due in no small part to the D Day invasion traffic.
At 17,000 feet, the haze grew thicker. Fred Kauffman was beginning to work hard for his 1st pilot experience. He was having to fly more by instruments as the visibility forwards was down to about 1,000 yards and the horizon was beginning to disappear into the miasma, though to the airmen flying through it, it didn’t seem to be too bad at that moment.
Flying above and slightly behind Burns’ aircraft, was his Port Side Wingman. This B17 bore the serial number 44-6133, but no name. The pilot was 2nd Lieutenant Armand Ramacitti and he was in trouble. This was his first combat mission and his B17 had been very badly damaged by the German Flak. He’d been nursing her along since leaving France behind. He’d already lost one engine, his Port elevator and a fair piece of the Starboard one had also been blown away and he had another engine on the Port side smoking heavily and running rough. Now, that engine was making an unbearably loud whining noise, looking and sounding as if it was about to seize up too. Jockeying the throttles on his remaining engines, Ramacitti was trying to compensate for the dropping power, but the flight controls were growing sloppy and with the Port elevator gone, maintaining the crippled bomber’s height was getting harder by the minute. She was beginning to give up the unequal struggle to stay in the air.
Ramacitti’s Bombardier, 2nd Lieutenant Theodore Chronopolis, saw that having surged slightly ahead of their leader, they were now dropping back, out of formation. He called Ramacitti on the intercom, warning him to pull up, as they were now dropping very close to Heavenly Body II. Ramacitti was desperately wrestling with the dying bomber’s controls, trying to claw back some height, but it was a losing battle. Without warning, 6133 side-slipped sickeningly to Starboard, literally dropping out of Ramacitti’s hands. Chronopolis frantically buckled on his parachute, as did the Navigator, for both men now knew with absolute certainty, what was coming next.
6133’s side-slip cut across the top of Burns’ aircraft at an angle of about 35 degrees. Engine bellowing, the Starboard outer prop cut into the top of Heavenly Body II‘s flight deck, right behind the Pilot’s window, killing Fred Kauffman instantly. The two aircraft momentarily locked together in a deadly embrace.
Theodore Chronopolis knew they’d hit Burns’ aircraft. All he’d heard was a very loud, sharp bang and a terrible rending sound, as the two aircraft collided. He and the Navigator went straight for the nearest escape hatch. The Flight Engineer and a couple of the Gunners were already there, but the hatch was totally jammed. Just then, 6133 rolled off Heavenly Body II‘s back and inverted. Thrown about inside the aircraft like a small toy, Theodore didn’t know what happened next. He recalled hearing another big bang, then he blacked out.
The momentum of 6133’s continuing side-slip had separated the two planes. As 6133 rolled off Heavenly Body II‘s back and then inverted, her Flak-battered Port wing now sheared off completely, which was probably the second bang that Theodore Chronopolis had heard. As the wing came off, 6133 started to spin, pointing her nose straight down and plunging headlong toward the muddy waters of the Thames Estuary below.
When Theodore came to, he was free-falling outside of the aircraft. Instinctively, he pulled the ripcord on his parachute, which thankfully deployed. As his descent rapidly slowed, he saw a B17 going down below him, its death-plunge marked by a thick trail of black smoke. Then shock set in and he blacked out again. Unbeknown to Theodore, he was the only one who’d got out of 6133 alive.
Literally moments before, on Heavenly Body II, Lloyd Burns suddenly realised that something was horribly wrong. He was about to reach over behind Fred to pull back the curtain. He wanted to see if their rookie wingman, Ramacitti, was keeping with them, when a terrible grinding noise to his left made him duck down instinctively. The daylight through the left side windows was blocked momentarily and he felt the aircraft shudder viciously. He realised in that instant that they’d been hit by another B17, which seemed to him, to be on top of them. Then as 6133 slid off the top, he looked over at Fred. Lloyd was in no doubt at all that Fred was now dead. The first thing Lloyd tried to do was to somehow stabilise the aircraft. Grabbing the controls, he found the ailerons completely unresponsive and he got next to no feedback from the elevators. This was not surprising as the B17’s control cables ran centrally along the top of the fuselage. 6133’s prop had undoubtedly chopped through them. Heavenly Body II was still flying as she’d been trimmed, just; but for how much longer was the question.
Lloyd noticed that the Flight Engineer was at the escape hatch, trying to open it. Realising that he’d no hope of flying the plane, Lloyd quickly reached for where his parachute was stowed, but couldn’t find it. As he climbed off the flight deck, one of the crew thrust a chute into his hands and he hurriedly strapped it on; only partially as it turned out. He assisted the Engineer in forcing the escape hatch open then literally shoved him through it, as he immediately followed the Engineer himself. As his parachute opened, Lloyd realised he was only half in the harness. Hanging on for dear life, he saw a B17 going down in a steep turn with one engine smoking badly, but was unsure which of the two aircraft it was.
The Bombardier on Burns’ aircraft, Jack Gray, later recalled that the bomber’s Plexiglas nose had been all but severed and he suddenly found himself seemingly more outside of the aircraft than inside it. Jack pulled himself back in and went for his parachute.
Heavenly Body II continued flying, though steadily losing height, even though there was only the dead co-pilot at the now useless controls. Six of her crew managed to safely escape. The Ball Turret Gunner, S/Sgt William Farmer, was one of the last to leave, noting that the aircraft looked like it was coming apart. He needed no second telling to get out and fast.
The six crew members that managed to escape were: Pilot Lloyd Burns, Bombardier Jack Gray, Top Turret Gunner Leonard Gibbs, Ball Turret Gunner William Farmer, Tail Gunner Richard Andrews and Radio Operator/Gunner Leroy Monk. All but one of those six landed in the water and were rescued by fishing boats. Tail Gunner Richard Andrews came down on dry land at Canvey. The three men who didn’t make it were: Co-pilot Fred Kauffman, Navigator Edward Sadler and Gunner Louis Schulte.
Crew of Heavenly Body II: Front Row, L to R: Edward Sadler; Fred Kauffman; Jack Gray; Lloyd Burns Back Row, L to R; Louis Schulte; Leroy Monk; Richard Andrews; Richard Billings; William Farmer; Leonard Gibbs Note that Richard Billings was part of the Burns crew on arrival at Kimbolton, but was the 10th man when crew size was reduced to 9, and so was not with the crew at the time of the collision. The survivors of the Burns crew are all deceased except for Richard Andrews. (Photo courtesy 379th BG Association archive, by kind permission.)
6133 meanwhile, had gone straight down and crashed in twenty feet of water, in what was then a minefield, about half a mile or so off the west beach at Allhallows. The Estuary bottom was and still is, soft Thames mud and the main part of the wreck undoubtedly buried itself to some extent in the mud. (What remained of the wreckage was later salvaged, probably when the minefield was cleared). She had taken most of her crew with her, trapped inside.
Sole survivor Theodore Chronopolis, landed safely by parachute. He was fished out of the water by a passing boat. The eight men of 6133’s crew who died that day were: Pilot 2nd Lt. Armand Ramacitti, Co-pilot 2nd Lt. William Hager, Navigator 2nd Lt. Donald Watson, Gunner S/Sgt. Richard Ritter, Gunner S/Sgt. Cecil Tognazzini, Gunner S/Sgt. John Burke, Gunner Sgt. Warren Oaks and Gunner Cpl. Paul Haynes.
Meanwhile, having been abandoned by her crew, Heavenly Body II continued flying, somewhat erratically and losing height all the time. At first, she’d turned west and seemed to be heading directly toward the oil storage tanks at ShellHaven on Canvey Island. To those watching on the ground, a disaster seemed inevitable, then; still losing height, she miraculously turned east, away from the refinery, over the town, toward Canvey Point and the mudflats. It seemed as though the pilot was still trying to find somewhere safe to put her down. She then circled once over Canvey Point before she finally nose-dived onto the mudflats, throwing an engine forward as she crashed.
To this day, those who can remember the event have always held the pilot of that aircraft in high esteem. Trouble was, the pilot was at that moment, just landing in the water off Canvey Island by parachute! Did Fred Kauffman not die in the collision after all? Had he somehow survived his injuries, regained consciousness and taken control of the shattered aircraft? Unlikely. Burns had tried to take control just after the collision and found the controls unresponsive. It is also extremely unlikely that Fred could have come round from such traumatic head injuries as he’d received when 6133’s Starboard outer prop cut through the roof and side of the Flight deck.
The answer probably has more to do with the B17’s inherent stability. With the nose section totally open and the escape hatches gone, the sheer force of the through-rushing air was probably responsible for the apparent “steering” of the aircraft. Also of course is the fact that, though a stable design, the aircraft was literally coming apart in flight. Who knows precisely how the aerodynamics were working, but one thing is certain, she was not being actively piloted.
The semi-submerged wreckage of Heavenly Body II remained on the mudflats for decades. Every so often, the tides would uncover more of it and bury other sections. The wreck was easily accessible and so subjected to many souveniring expeditions. A local historical society salvaged some of it and put it on display in a museum, until it closed. The thrown engine was salvaged fairly recently and together with some other artefacts, is now on display at another local museum. There is also a storyboard on the seafront close to the crash site at Canvey Point and a memorial plaque, dedicated to the memory of both crews. Sadly, there is nothing of the kind at Allhallows, where 6133 crashed.
Most of the bodies, including Ramacitti’s, were recovered; some at the time, some a little later, and are interred in the American Cemetery at Madingley, Cambridge; a long way from home. One body was later sent home. The body of Gunner Louis Schulte from 6133 now rests at home in a cemetery in St. Louis. Only two are still unaccounted for: Fred Kauffman, Co-pilot of Heavenly Body II and Gunner Cecil Tognazzini from 6133, both of whom are listed on the tablets of the missing at Madingley. Their last resting places are very probably in the soft Thames mud that their aircraft crashed in. They too, are a long way from home.
Post Script.
B-17 #44-6133 was a Douglas/Long Beach B-17G-45-DL Flying Fortress delivered to Tulsa airbase, Oklahoma, May 10th, 1944. It was transferred to Hunter airbase, Savannah, Georgia, on May 19th, 1944, and then onto Dow Field on May 29th, 1944. She was assigned to the 525th BS, 379th BG as ‘FR-Y’at Kimbolton Jun 8th, 1944. The crew of #44-6133 were:
Pilot: Second Lieutenant Armand Ramacitti
Co-pilot: Second Lieutenant William ‘Bill’ Hager
Navigator: First Lieutenant Donald ‘Don’ Watson
Flight engineer/top turret gunner: Staff Sergeant Cecil Tognazzini
Radio Operator: Sergeant Richard ‘Dick’ Ritter
Ball turret gunner: Staff Sergeant John Burke
Waist gunner: Corporal Paul Haynes
Tail gunner: Sergeant Warren Oaks (his second mission)
Bombardier: Second Lieutenant Theodore Chronopolis
#42-97942 was a Lockheed/Vega B-17G-40-VE Flying Fortress delivered to Denver on April 11th, 1944. She then went onto Kearney air base in Nebraska on May 4th, 1944, before transferring also to Dow Field May 23rd, 1944. She was then assigned to 525th BS, 379th BG at Kimbolton as ‘FR-K’. The crew of #42-97942 were:
Pilot: First Lieutenant Lloyd Burns (just 19 years of age)
Bombardier: Second Lieutenant Jack Gray
Flight engineer/top turret gunner: Technical Sergeant Leonard Gibbs
Radio Operator: Technical Sergeant Leroy Monk
Ball turret gunner: Staff Sergeant William ‘Bill’ Farmer
Waist gunner: Staff Sergeant Richard ‘Dick’ Andrews
Co-pilot: Second Lieutenant Fred Kauffman
Navigator: Flight Officer Edward Sadler
Tail gunner: Staff Sergeant Louis Schulte
Aviation Trails 