My Bombsight View of WWII

Our pilots liked to get to altitude with a new Gunner trainee and suddenly flip the airplane upside down. They were just trying to see if the trainee had followed instructions and had remembered to fasten his safety line. One Cadet had a free parachute ride down and a long walk back to base carrying his parachute. Graduation finally arrived. Our class had struggled, but most of us survived to get our 2nd Lt. Bars and our Bombardier Wings. Everything went as we had planned it for the big bash. Every officer that could attend our party did so. Almost no one was left to man the base. Officers and enlisted men were not allowed to fraternize together, so we had liquor and goodies delivered to the enlisted club. Many movie stars and starlets came. Included were Linda Darnell and George Raft. Edgar Bergan entertained for about an hour and Charlie McCarthy was funny. Martha Raye’s mouth really did resemble the Grand Canyon. I felt sorry for one actress that I will not name. I flew 55 missions and there were holes 50 times. I never felt I had to back up to the window on payday. Somehow I gained the reputation of being lucky. I did not want to hear anything about it for fear that it would change my luck. In London, I decided to reward myself with a real sit-down meal in a nice restaurant, as much unlike a mess hall as I could find. I found one, but there were no more tables. So they asked if I would mind sitting with some people who were already seated. I said, “Excellent”, and he led me to a table occupied by a British General and a lovely young lady. Introductions were made. I asked for his recommendation and ordered the fish, as he suggested. Lee was intelligent, educated, pretty, and she charmed me right out of my G.I. Socks. We were told that if anyone ever mentioned the words “oboe” or “cat and mouse” off the base, that they would be instantly jailed. Luckily none of us played the oboe. ******************************************************************* I remember a mission when a German plane attacked us. Someone on my crew was yelling on the intercom, “Bandit! Bandit! 180! Coming through the formation!” Our D-Day target turned out to be four big Naval rifles that were on top of a bluff overlooking the coast. They were mounted in reinforced concrete fourteen to sixteen feet thick. We were told the Naval rifles could shoot twenty miles at ships out to sea. Around the middle of June the Germans started sending the first V-1 bombs. The “V” stood for vengeance. The V-1 looked sort of like a torpedo with short, stubby wings and an engine mounted near the rear on top. One compadre and I decided the only proper way to celebrate the New Year would be at a French nightclub in London. I called Lee and he called his girlfriend, and they met us. We must have been a sorry sight as we presented ourselves at the door. One look at our muddy four buckle overshoes and wrinkled clothes got us a quick, “I’m sorry, but we have no tables left.” I put down the parachute bag and explained that the mud was fresh from France, and opening the parachute bag, I offered him his choice of champagne direct from France. He said he had not seen any for four years, and summoned a waiter in French. The waiter led us to a table right down front. There, we also gifted him with a bottle of French wine. The club was filled mostly with French expatriates. The band and the floor show were lively. I let the war seep out of my bones, encouraged by the wine and the atmosphere. After midnight they did some English things, and I was drunk enough to try the Highland Fling with the cast. I don’t think the people would have laughed half as much if it was not for my four buckle overshoes.