The Boys in the B-17

Combat Missions
The men (boys) who flew daytime Eighth Air Force combat missions in WW II needed skill, nerves of steel and a faith that they would survive the hazards they faced in those deadly skies over Germany. A lot of thoughts go through your mind while you’re plodding through the snow to a jeep or truck to take you out to your bomber. You’ve gone through briefing and you know the target. In a few hours you’ll be soaring over the North Sea at 20,000 feet, at 20 below zero and on oxygen. You realize your life is going on the line and you may never see home again.  With the optimism of youth you believe you’ll make it, but you say a prayer to ask God’s protection. Then, you toss your equipment into the truck and with a yell to the rest of the crew, “Let’s get this show on the road!”
Thirty or so planes taxi out to the runway and line up for take-off. The roaring of the motors wake up all the Englishmen in the neighborhood, but they’re glad the Yanks are here. You realize every B-17 is loaded with all the bombs and equipment needed for a mission to blow hell out of an Axis target. You also realize the enemy fighters and flak will be waiting to welcome you to the deadly skies over Europe!
There was a constant mental stress on aircrew members. We worried most of the night on the eve of a bombing raid, and “sweated out” every mission from take-off until landing. Most airmen feared flak worst of all because there was the reality of facing it over every target and unexpected locations along the way. Briefing sessions before a mission always included info on the safest route to and from the target. Aircrews relied on their pilot and navigator to avoid those hot spots, but many anti-aircraft guns were mounted on railroad cars, boats and river barges.  Those mobile guns could raise havoc with a bomber formation. Flak was terrifying because there was no way of knowing when the sky would be filled with deadly exploding shells or who those iron slugs would strike.
Flak was sneaky, especially if the anti-aircraft gunners were “tracking” us!  By the time we saw the puffs of black smoke from exploding shells, the sky around us was full of slugs of iron. It was even worse on our bomb-run to the target. We saw a sky full of flak that we had to fly into it to drop our bombs!! Flak brought death and destruction to our bomber formation as we opened our bomb-bay doors and released the bombs.  We were always alert for an enemy fighter attack, but we could shoot back at them and our escort fighters could protect us. However, there was no defense against the flak barrage. Flak shrapnel could wound or kill crew members and a direct hit by an anti-aircraft 88 shell meant disaster. Severe flak damage to a bomber meant dropping out of the protection of the formation. Lone flak-crippled bombers became prime targets for lurking Luftwaffe fighters armed with machine guns, cannon and rockets. A crippled bomber’s best chance of surviving was to be picked up and protected by some of our escort fighters until they could make it out of enemy territory.
Canon fire from enemy fighters could do great damage and a direct hit by a rocket would send an aircraft down in flames. There were seldom any survivors of a rocket blast. Every combat mission was a test of endurance and every crew member doing the best job at his position. The odds of a B-17 bomber completing a safe mission depended on luck, skill and the grace of God. There was no place for a crewman who was not in good mental condition. The crews on heavy bombers faced many hazards besides the actual mission. Examples include: crashes on take-off or landings, mid-air collisions, fire, engine or equipment failure, sub-zero temperature and anoxia (oxygen loss.) Combat fatigue was common and aircrew members sometimes “snapped” under the constant fear of death. Crews often flew two or three missions in a row. The common term was around the base was “flak happy,” but we all sympathized, because we knew we might be the next victim of combat fatigue or a mental breakdown. Some boys endured unbelievable experiences in those dangerous skies of World War II. The guy who said he was not afraid, was either crazy or lying!
The Stars and Stripes, our army newspaper, printed daily reports and results of  Mighty Eighth’s bombing and fighter raids to show our successes in the war. We were always faced with the brutal statistics of the air war. Bombers that went down carried nine or ten men, so it was easy to count the casualties. Usually, the men (boys) listed as MIA (missing in action) were either dead or prisoners of war.
The Air Force recognized the fatigue problem and combat crews were given frequent three day passes to London or other recreational areas. Large R&R (rest and relaxation) centers were established in hotels or mansions for crews needing a week’s vacation from the war! Airmen were keenly aware of the number of bombers and crews lost on each mission. Headquarters kept a special clean-up squad go to the barracks of crews that were shot down and move out all property and traces of crews that were lost. This “sanitizing” prevented looting and saved the missing crew’s personal property for relatives. Most of all, it helped surviving crews forget their unfortunate buddies, but it was hard to ignore empty bunks!
Statistics report that a total of 350,000 men served in the Mighty Eighth during World War II. Approximately 120,000 were air crew members and only one crew in five completed their tour of duty. A total of 26,000 airmen were killed in action (KIA), thousands were wounded and 28,000 bailed out of disabled planes to be listed as MIA (missing in action.) Thousands of those guys served time in German prisoner of war (POW) camps, but many men were never located. The Eighth Air force had one of the highest casualty rates of any unit in the Armed Forces.
“A great number of American boys had their last night’s sleep in a
                          Nissan hut in England.”           Andy Rooney
Those figures explain why many airmen had the attitude expressed in the Bill Mauldin cartoon, when Willie turned to Joe and said:
            “I feel like a fugitive from the law of averages!”