James E. Brooks
A Glimpse of Hell tells the exciting and harrowing story of the Black March, when 8,000 American P.O.W.s were force-marched across Germany near the end of World War II.
Filled with humor as well as tears, this true story is a touching and powerful portrait of life for thousands of American flyers who endured the hardships of Nazi prisoner of war camps.
The book also tells about the training of a bomber crew and details missions over Germany and France--culminating with the moment the plane was shot down behind enemy lines. In addition, Jim Brooks intersperses memories of his Ozark boyhood, all combining into a compelling and educational read.
James E. Brooks was born in 1922 and grew up on a farm in southwestern Missouri. Since retiring in 1987, he has lived with his wife, Claudia, in Pittsburg, Kansas. They have a son, Kenneth, and a daughter, Nancy, four grandchildren and one great-grandchild. After his retirement, Jim sat down with a tape recorder to attempt to answer some of the questions his children and grandchildren had asked him through the years. The result was the book you hold in your hands, A Glimpse of Hell. Filled with humor as well as tears, this true story is a touching and powerful portrait of what life was like for thousands of American flyers who endured the hardships of Nazi prisoner of war camps. This book is dedicated to them.
As I drifted down it was so quiet I could hear my heart beating. I was low enough now I could see the ground and even make out some of the roads and the villages, but I lost sight of the other men as we got closer to the ground. Then I could see a motorcycle and an army vehicle. I saw some machine guns firing, and I couldnÕt tell how far away they were, but I couldnÕt hear them. All I saw was the flash of fire coming out of the muzzles, the smoke, the movement of the men feeding the ammo into the gun. It was like watching a silent movie. Then all of the sudden I saw that the ground was coming up toward me faster than I could believe. I was close to panic, but I saw a little tree about 20 feet tall coming toward me. I reached out and grabbed the top of it, swinging gently down to the ground without even losing my footing. I pulled my parachute down and unsnapped it. I was on the ground, in enemy territory.
I looked at my watch. It had been just 18 minutes since I bailed out. I wadded up my chute and hid it in a brush pile. I heard airplanes above, and when I looked up I saw some B-17s going home. I thought, ÒYou lucky guys, youÕll be home in a few hours, and IÕve gotta walk. And, man, itÕs a long way home.Ó
The first thing I did was get my escape kits out. I had three of them Ñ they were one of those things I always packed extras of. They each held a compass, maps and dextrose tablets for food, so I had a good supply. Then I walked out to the edge of the little wooded area I had landed in. I discovered that I was on top of a little hill about five or ten acres, all
