Combat War Story
By Marion C. Hoffman
In World War II, January 6, 1945, comes this story of air war combat (the battlefield in the skyat 28,000 ft.). In our battlefield as we fought, we prayed, we sweat, we bled and some of us died. It is my way as a veterans advocate to propagate and perpetuate our cause of freedom. It is not only my war, it was our war, for all Americans back then and even today.
It all began after we came back from our two weeks R & R, 11/26/44 to 12/11/44, up at Blackpool, England. The R & R was the intention too convince us mentally a little time off would make us fettle for more combat. On 12/11/44, our twenty/first mission back in combat, for some of us the R & R did not work, we were back mentally where it had been left off Marion.
THE STORY BEGINS:
In our minds, from our first mission onward the tension, the anxiety, the uncertainty grew, the wonderment with our crew completing our 23rd mission on 12/24/44. Will we be able to continue this pace and complete the required 30 missions? We went on, we flew our 24th mission on New Years Day 1945, and from our 14th mission on, we Led or Deputy Lead in the formation of our 36 plane formation. It was a position in formation we thought and considered to be safe. At least better than tail end Charlie. We were flying Deputy Lead on January 6, 1945, target railroad marshalling yards was our primary, Duetz Bridge, Cologne, Germany our secondary target.
Going in on IP to bomb drop as I reported about four to six minutes from bomb drop flying Tail Gunner position. I reported on intercom a four-burst barrage out about four hundred yards at six o’clock level. As we proceeded, second burst gain speed on us about four hundred yards, second burst of four. The third burst of four was out about two hundred yards level. I called out on intercom for diversionary tactic reasons.
After that, I felt like a sacrificial lamb going to slaughter, the next burst would be up my butt. The German anti-aircraft timing was accurate in reloading their guns to our level. The bomb run seemed to be forever. No evasive or diversionary action taken. This we were trained to do. Then we heard bombs away.
With our target for our 91st BG it should have been a milk run. Unfortunately, it did not turn out that way, going off the target right after bombs away, we got a direct hit in Number 3 engine. Flying Tail position, my observation there were four barrages of four burst each, and not being superstitious, I always said it was the thirteenth burst of last (16) four burst barrage that got us. Of course that was not important, more and greater, and do mean greater problems ensued from this incident onward. With the combination, 100 octane gas, oxygen bottles along the side of aircraft and hydraulic fluid, which was inflammable at that time, created one of the worst fires an aircraft could sustain. Surprising a wing did not melt away from the intense heat felt back in the tail of our aircraft.
When order to bail-out came so great was the anxiety, the uncertainty build-up we had up to this time survived our missions now we were about to face a future unknown.
Remembering, when leaving our country, America, back in July 1944, there was a discussion among us brought up by our co-pilot Warren T. Smith among us on intercom about who might not return again alive to the country we love. Unfortunately, and I say it with great emotion, yet after 61 years, there were four of our crew killed this mission, this day, in early 1945. You see a Bomber Crew was a Band Of Brothers, closer than brother relationship existed. What one guy would do for each other to protect him from injury or death was human nature, in war.
Causalities that day, (he had said he was all right, not to worry about him) the Engineer Gunner, Fred Turner of West Virginia, died. He went down with the plane. The Co-pilot, Warren T. Smith of Rapid City, South Dakota, was hit by shrapnel and died a day later in a German hospital. The Bombardier, Alan Hillman of Maine, and Navigator, Donald Williams of Illinois, landed on the ground safely by parachute, but were shot through the forehead by German civilians and buried in a common grave together. Of the four men (Alan Hillman is the only one who has not come home to America, he is buried in the Luxemburg American Cemetery). Four men, four buddies, our heros we must always remember them and many others who gave the Supreme Sacrifice.
After being taken captive, under the point of a gun, one loses his FREEDOM, one does not get to practice that which existed as a free man. It was not until the second day of captivity that we learned of Turner and Smith’s demise. What is even more shocking, even yet today, why we did not learn of and about the death of Hillman and Williams, until December 12, 1983, when the (MACRs) Missing Air Crew Reports were finally declassified. We had tried from late 1946 to 12/12/83 to get our MACR’s, but always told by the government they were still classified. Then it was revealed by our pilot Cecil G. McConnell, he found out the status of Hillman and Williams. Maybe, the U. S. Government was taking time to fully investigate this incident, deserving War Crimes Trail investigation. It is speculation, we don’t really know.
With that said, those of us who lived were blessed, let every day be Thanksgiving and Memorial Day, to give thanks, to commemorate, to perpetuate the memory of those who gave the Supreme Sacrifice for the FREEDOM we live today. What to all of us was not our choosing, it was not a dream, it was reality. It was we, only with the help of God, survived, to be liberated, to commemorate and celebrate life. WE WERE FORMER PRISONERS OF WAR. GOD BLESS US ALL, GOD BLESS AMERICA.
With great emotion each year on this date I reread what I have laid my hand in writing. I do this in memory of our four crewmember buddies, and all those who gave the Supreme Sacrifice. I always admired this writing and if they could only speak this I know they would say:
THE YOUNG DEAD SOLDIERS
BY: ARCHIBALD MACLEISH
We were young. We have died. Remember us.
We have done what we could but until it is finished no one could know what our lives gave.
We have given our lives but until it is finished no one can know what our lives gave.
Our deaths are not ours; they are yours, they will mean what you make them.
Whether our lives and our deaths were for peace, a New Hope or for nothing, we cannot say;
it is you who must say this.
We leave you our deaths. Give them their meaning.
We were young
We have died
Remember us.
We hold they will always be young and alive in our memories. We will never, ever forget them.
LIBERTY, PATRIOTISM, INDEPENDENCE AND ABOVE ALL, OUR FREEDOM, OURS TO CHOOSE WAS FREEDOM, WITHOUT FREEDOM THE OTHER THREE WOULD NOT BE EASILY OBTAINED AND PRACTICED.
GOD BLESS AMERICA.
Marion C. Hoffman, was born July 8, 1922, the twelfth child in a family of fourteen, Boone Township, Dubois County, Rural Route # 2, Otwell, Indiana.
Published U.S. Legacies February 2006
- Log in to post comments