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Ten Horsepower. |
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Sergeant Carl Moore was standing at his guns in the Top Turret, directly behind the cockpit, when the two German ME 109s made their lethal attack on Ten Horsepower. In a matter of seconds the enemy fighters flashed past in their dive while the American Fortress shook with the impact of cannon-fire that wreaked havoc in the cockpit. Almost immediately Moore felt the bomber peel away from the formation, the force of the move and the bomber's sudden descent flattening him to the floor. At first he thought that Lieutenant Nelson was simply making an evasive move to get out of the attacking enemy's line of sight. As Ten Horsepower continued to fall in an ever tightening spin, he suddenly realized something was seriously wrong. Then came the sound of the bail-out alarm, three ringing bells throughout the aircraft, that had been sounded by Lieutenant Martin. Sergeant Moore struggled against the centrifugal force of the falling bomber to push his way towards the cockpit.
Frigid wind whipped through the broken windshield as Sergeant Moore pushed determinedly forward and tried to focus his eyes on a horror that a young man's mind could never thereafter forget. Approaching the pilot and co-pilot from the rear, it was obvious that despite the ringing alarm, the two officers were still in their seats. Pushing his way to the opening between the two seats it became even more obvious that the bomber was in serious trouble. Lieutenant Nelson was slumped forward, blood streaming from his face and apparently dead. Even more gruesome was the scene to the right where Flight Officer Bartley was slumped forward over the controls, his still body covered in blood below the shoulders. Above the shoulders there was nothing left. The enemy round that had entered the windshield on the right had effectively decapitated the smiling young officer whose sense of humor had always cheered the crew.
Sergeant Moore had no way of knowing if there was anyone else left alive in the bomber; the bail-out alarms continued to sound amid the roar of the in-rushing wind and he had no way of communicating over the interphone. Perhaps the other seven men were even now floating to earth in parachutes, leaving Carl Moore to plunge earthward with the corpses of the two men in the cockpit. But with an uncommon clearness of mind Sergeant Moore realized that if anyone was still alive in the bomber, they would all be doomed within minutes unless he could pull Ten Horsepower out of its violent, spinning dive.
In fact, only Lieutenant Martin had managed to escape certain death. The other seven men were scattered at their stations from nose to tail and were pinned helplessly to the floor, walls, or ceiling of their airship. In the radio room Joe Rex heard the bail-out bell and prepared to make his way to the escape hatch when the centrifugal force of their descent pinned him helplessly against the floor. In the waist Tom Sowell heard the bail-out alarm shortly after the explosions shook Ten Horsepower. He glanced quickly around for the parachute he had neglected to put on, only to watch the package thrown back against the radio room beyond his grasp. Then he was pinned helplessly against the side of the bomber along with Russell Robinson. Both men knew they had only minutes before impact, and neither had the strength to free themselves and struggle to an opening through which to jump to safety.
Alone in the tail Mac Hagbo was also helpless to reach the escape hatch. In the bomber's belly Sergeant Mathies was still sealed inside the tight confines of the Ball Turret that took great effort to exit under the best of circumstances. In the clear Plexiglas nose Lieutenant Truemper had a panoramic view of the ground rushing out to claim his life as Ten Horsepower plunged nearly three miles at more than 150 miles per hour.
Sergeant Moore steeled himself against the cold wind and the grisly gore in the cockpit, forcing his body between the pilot and co-pilot's seats. The space between them provided the craw-space to the nose, leaving him with no secure footing. Somehow he found the strength and agility to straddle the opening and reach forward to pull back the control wheels. With the bodies of the two officers slumped forward there was a heavy weight against his desperate efforts. Moore forced his elbows against the pilots' chests, pushing the dead-weight of their bodies back as he summoned every ounce of strength his adrenaline-charged fear could exert against near-impossible conditions. As Ten Horsepower neared the mist of the low-lying clouds he felt the big bomber begin to respond, slowly leveling out.
The alarm bells continued to hammer in Moore's ear's and with the immediate threat of a direct dive into the ground lessened, he began to look around and take stock of his situation. Looking down between his legs, which quivered not only against the strain of his awkward position but also the frigid air that whipped against them, he could see that the forward escape hatch was opened. Looking behind, he could also see the empty bomb racks and the open bomb bay. Feeling very much alone and still unaware if anyone remained alive in the Flying Fortress he began to consider his options.
In the nose Lieutenant Truemper felt the slow release of the G-force that had rendered him helpless to move when Ten Horsepower fell, and pushed himself to his feet. He was struggling to reach the cockpit when the bomber suddenly started to fall again, pushing him backward. Sergeant Moore had attempted to reach over to turn off the alarm bells that pounded in his head, the momentary release of his arms on the control wheels sending the bomber into another dive. Quickly he elbowed the corpses of the pilots backwards, pulling the controls towards himself, and leveled out again. It was a super-human effort; many of the control cables had been shot away. Moore was still calling upon his body to accomplish the unthinkable when Lieutenant Truemper at last entered the cockpit behind him. With help at last, the two men did their best to bring some normalcy to Ten Horsepower's erratic flight.
In the Radio Room Sergeant Joe Rex felt the weight that had pinned him helplessly to the floor gradually lessen and struggled to his knees, and then to his feet. Ten Horsepower was porpoising--rising and falling as Truemper and Sergeant Moore fought to stay airborne. Joe struggled to the door to fight his way to the escape hatch just as Sergeant Mathies emerged from the Ball Turret to head for the cockpit. Archie reached out and grabbed Joe by the shoulder, halting the radioman's race to the open bomb bay, and pointed to a corner of the Radio Room. Joe glanced quickly to where Mathies was pointing and saw his parachute. Joe hadn't been wearing it while at his duty station and had nearly jumped without it.
Sergeant Mathies headed for the cockpit where he found Lieutenant Truemper relieving Sergeant Moore from the precarious position between the pilots' seats. He was still trying to keep the ship airborne and in reasonably level flight, his elbows leveraging back two corpses while Sergeant Moore went below and set to the task of closing the bomb bay doors. Archie advised Truemper that the gunners were still aboard and at their stations, then moved in to provide Ten Horsepower's last surviving officer a brief respite.
Even when the bomb bay doors had been closed the icy wind continued to stream through the cockpit from the broken window above the co-pilot's seat. The three men, Truemper, Mathies, and Moore, could not remain in place for very long before their limbs began to quiver and shake against the strain as well as the icy blast. Joe Rex came forward and helped to move Flight Officer Bartley's body below. Mathies settled into the co-pilot's seat and over the following hours did his best to get them all home. When his body could take the exertion and cold no more, Moore or Truemper spelled him off.
Joe Rex returned to his radio room to try and establish communications. He was covered in blood from the grim task of moving Flight Officer Bartley's body and at first the two waist gunners thought he had been wounded. Joe waved them off and passed on orders from Lieutenant Truemper--stay at their guns and keep them moving. If enemy fighters saw stationary guns they would assume the Fortress to be defenseless and strike immediately.
Lieutenant Truemper took stock of the situation, discussing the options with Mathies and Moore. All four engines were turning, the plane was remaining airborne and in reasonably level flight, and her nose was pointed towards England--only a few hours away. The three men agreed that their best option was to remain with the plane and try and reach Polebrook. It was a decision that had serious implications for all seven survivors, and Truemper gave the gunners the option to parachute to safety. The decision to remain in Ten Horsepower and trust in teamwork to get them safely home was unanimous.
Joe Rex went to work tracing down and repairing combat-damaged wires in an effort to restore communications throughout the airship. At the waist Tom Sowell and Russell Robinson kept their guns moving. Robinson was alarmed to see two FW 190s off the right wing and loosed a volley of fire to chase them back. The enemy fighters paced the bomber, just beyond range of Robinson's .50-caliber machine guns. After an agonizing eternity that was actually only minutes, the fighters struck. "One shell hit back toward the tail, around the strut of the tail wheel," Robinson recalled. "Tom and I talked about it being awful close to Hagbo, but we couldn't go back to check on him. One shell went right between me and Tom. A hole opened up just over my head. We never could find where it went out." Other shells raked across the right wing, damaging the aileron of a bomber that was already nearly impossible to fly.
As these two fighters dove past another came in from above. Joe Rex scrambled for his gun, the only one with a position from which to defend Ten Horsepower from such an attack. He opened fire, his accurate aim sending a stream of .50 caliber rounds into the enemy Focke-Wulf. The enemy fighter exploded into flames and careened earthward but not before his own 20-mm cannon tore through Rex's Plexiglas bubble. As Lieutenant Truemper directed Ten Horsepower into the clouds to escape, Carl Moore and Tom Sowell raced to the radio room where they found Joe lying on the floor amid even more blood. This time it was his own.
Carl and Tom bandaged Joe's wounds and administered morphine. When the pain subsided, Rex went back to work, struggling with one good hand to repair the critical radio equipment that had been damaged in the attack. From nose to tail, the saving of Ten Horsepower was a team effort by seven men, each of whom continued to demonstrate the highest degrees of courage and determination. In less than half-an-hour of sheer terror they had maintained their composure and trusted in their training and in each other, to survive two devastating attacks and begin the long journey home.
With Archie Mathies in the co-pilot's seat holding Ten Horsepower level, Lieutenant Truemper went below to his navigator's table to plot their course. Carl Moore watched his friend determinedly trying to ignore the freezing wind that whipped through the window on the right to numb his aching limbs. Moore determined to try and move Lieutenant Nelson's body to free-up the left-hand seat. When Russell Robinson came forward to check the cockpit the two men bent to the task of moving Nelson. Nelson was larger and heavier than Bartlett, requiring much greater effort to extricate him in the close confines. As the two NCOs jockeyed about to move their beloved commander they were surprised to find him breathing. Despite his grievous wounds, Lieutenant Nelson was still alive. The two men, believing that further efforts to move Lieutenant Nelson might have fatal consequences, abandoned the idea. For Archie Mathies the news that his friend and commander was still breathing gave increased urgency to his efforts to get his badly-battered bomber safely back to England.
Ten Horsepower cruised northwest at about 5,000 feet, staying just above clouds that could provide quick cover if enemy fighters appeared. Fortunately none did and for a brief time it seemed that the worst was over. Shortly after Lieutenant Truemper returned to the cockpit to relieve Archie Mathies, sporadic breaks in the clouds began to expose the low-flying Fortress to enemy gunners on the ground. Shells began to buffet the bomber, bursting ever closer as the gunners probed for the airship's range. Lieutenant Truemper quickly ducked into the clouds to try and hide from view as he droned on.
Flying in the clouds was fraught with dangers of its own, both real and imagined. It was like trying to drive a car moving at more than 150 miles per hour while blindfolded. It was dangerous for an experienced pilot who trained in instrument navigation and who was keenly aware of the problems with angle and depth perception such flight could create. More than one experienced pilot had become disoriented in the clouds and dove into the ground without ever realizing that danger loomed. For Lieutenant Truemper the nerve-wracking duty was compounded by an instrument panel that had sustained combat damage and might be totally unreliable.
Truemper's skills as a navigator at last indicated that he was nearing the coast of Holland. It was time to descend below the clouds and he pulled back on the throttles to begin a cautious descent. Beside him Archie Mathies watched the altimeter and called out the readings in increments of 500 feet, reading backwards from their altitude at 5,000 feet above sea level. It was a long, agonizing process as Walter Truemper was forced to strain every muscle of his body against the controls that had fought every mile of airspeed since the plane had been shot up. Despite incredible fatigue and the freezing wind that froze the exposed areas of flesh on his face and threatened to cramp the muscles in his arms and legs, Truemper summoned both the courage and determination to do what had to be done. At 4,000 feet there was nothing but mist and haze. Truemper found the descent a fearful experience in which it was easy to become disoriented, but swallowed the bile that rose in his throat to press on. Behind him Sergeant Moore could no longer ignore the airsickness that had always been a problem. He became violently ill, doubling over to throw up into the bomb bay before succumbing to the painful cramps the malady always brought.
Sergeant Mathies called out 3,000 feet in altitude while watching Truemper with admiration. Archie knew from his own periods behind controls that the airship's condition was demanding on the man in the co-pilot's seat. There was constant backward pressure from the column as the Fortress struggled to climb, a dangerous movement that might cause her to stall and plummet to the ground. Archie had spent his own eternities in the previous hours, forcing aching arms to hold the column forward to keep Ten Horsepower level.
For Truemper it was like an endless tunnel, his eyes straining against the fog for a glimmer of light ahead. "Two-thousand feet," Mathies called out, and still there was nothing but gray-white mist before the windshield. Ten Horsepower had dropped dangerously close to either land or the North Sea--either one of which might unexpectedly reach out to suck the plane and its crew into eternity.
"Fifteen-hundred feet," Mathies shouted above the roar of the wind. And then, even as if it seemed that the mist would follow him all the way to whatever lay below, the clouds gave way to wisps of fog through which he could make out the white-capped swells of the sea below. With arms and legs shaking from the exertion and tense descent from the clouds, Truemper breathed a sigh of relief amid the confident smile and warm congratulations of Sergeant Mathies. With cautious, deliberate movements, Truemper began sliding out of the right-hand seat as Mathies slipped in to take the controls. On shaking knees Wally stumbled down to the navigator's table below where he collapsed in his seat, elbows on the table surface and his aching head propped up in unsteady hands. Then, allowing himself only the briefest respite after all he had been through, he went to work to plot the course for home. As the coast line drew nearer, with Mathies at the controls, Truemper went to the radio room to personally handle communications for the wounded Sergeant Rex, who had somehow managed to get the control radio working before pain again overcame him.
Polebrook Air Field
3:33 P.M.It was quiet in the control tower, the morning formation having taken off hours before and not expected back from either of the 351st Bomb Group's two targets for another hour or two. The only activity had been the return of My Princess, the B-17 that had been launched as a spare for the Leipzig formation. Lieutenant McLawhorn and the crew of the bomber with a big yellow "Q" on the tail had returned to Polebrook while over the channel and arrived home before noon.
Alone in the tower Sergeant Harold Flint was only slightly surprised to hear static over the radio, followed by a broken voice asking for a heading to Polebrook. It was not unusual for a bomber to be forced, either by combat damage sustained en route or by mechanical problems, to abort and return to base ahead of the rest of the formation.
Minutes passed before the roar of the Fortress' engines became audible in the control tower. Flint prepared to walk the returning bomber through a routine that happened multiple times nearly every day at airfields across England. Battle-damaged bombers, bombers with engines out or landing gear frozen--such emergencies were to be expected, and almost always were dealt with in a calm, professional manner. It was what pilots and control tower personnel trained for, perhaps even expected.
High above and in the distance Lieutenant Walter Truemper keyed the microphone to speak the words Sergeant Flint never expected to hear...words that he would never forget...
"Newflick, this is A-Able calling Newflick.
"The co-pilot is dead. The pilot we think is dead.
"The bombardier has jumped.
"I am the navigator, the only commissioned officer on board.
"What should we do?"
Minutes after that startling radio communication Major Elzia Ledoux, commander of the 509th Squadron, was in the tower and personally communicating with his men as they circled high above Polebrook. He was joined by Colonel Eugene Romig, who had assumed command of the 351st Bomb Group six weeks earlier.
Romig was a veteran, having been one of the first pilots to arrive in England with the 303d Bombardment Group. In his more than a year of combat action with the 303d before his transfer to Polebrook, Romig had been pilot of the bomber in which Jack Mathis had flown his first mission as a bombardier on November 17, 1942. Four weeks later Romig had earned the Distinguished Flying Cross as co-pilot in a Fortress named 8-Ball, bringing back the badly shot up Fortress after ordering the crew to bail out to safety. Major Romig had again flown with Lieutenant Mathis on March 8, 1943--ten days before Mathis' was killed in the nose of The Duchess, becoming the first airman in the air war over Europe to earn the Medal of Honor. Over a period of nearly 18-months of combat action Romig had witnessed almost every emergency imaginable and had seen repeated acts of determination and valor. What began to unfold before him on that Sunday afternoon at Polebrook was unlike anything he had seen before.
While Ten Horsepower circled high above, Romig and Ledoux received reports and assessed the situation. They learned what Lieutenant Truemper had radioed to Sergeant Flint earlier: the copilot was dead, the pilot severely wounded and unconscious, the bombardier was either dead or captured on German soil, and there were other wounded men aboard. They also established through radio communications with A-Able, the call-sign for Ten Horsepower, that the bomber's enlisted Flight Engineer was at the controls and asking for permission to land.
Shortly after crossing the English coast line Truemper had spotted an R.A.F. airfield and requested clearance for an emergency landing. Upon learning that there was no rated pilot aboard the stricken bomber, the British refused. An inexperienced and untrained man in the cockpit attempting to land was a disaster-in-the-making, not only for the aircrew, but potentially for everyone on the ground as well. Ten Horsepower had continued on toward her home field at Polebrook. Via the radio Lieutenant Truemper advised Colonel Romig that he believed Mathies could make the landing. Romig granted permission, and moments later Ten Horsepower lined up on the northeast runway while the tower tried to talk him down. There was no direct radio communication with the cockpit, everything had to be relayed through Lieutenant Truemper.
Mathies lined the bomber up for his landing attempt while the rest of the crew gathered in the radio room, their backs to the wall. The intrepid young sergeant lowered the wheels, then struggled to keep pressure on the sluggish control wheel with one hand while holding the flap switch down with the other. As he came in 100 feet above the concrete runway he glanced at his air speed--160 miles per hour--Ten Horsepower was still flying too fast and descending too slowly to touch down. As the end of the runway loomed before him Archie pushed the throttles forward and climbed back into the overcast skies.
Colonel Romig watched A-Able overshoot the runway and climb for air. Perhaps he recalled his own mission, only slightly more than a year before when he was flying in the right-hand seat with Captain William Calhoun in 8-Ball. With the bomber badly-shot up and only two engines turning, with hydraulics out and the entire aircraft shaking violently, upon reaching the English coast Romig had ordered the crew to bail out to safety. Flying without a navigator, in fact with only Calhoun and Romig remaining in the bomber, 8-Ball continued on although neither the pilot or co-pilot knew exactly where they were. Somewhere near London a Spitfire had appeared, then flown ahead of them to guide them safely to Bovington where they had settled down in a wheels-up landing.
Romig ordered Truemper to have the Flight Engineer climb higher and circle over Polebrook so that the crew could bail out to safety. Then he and Major Ledoux raced outside to get a jeep and drive to the parking stand where Q-Queenie (My Princess) was parked after it had turned back over the English Channel earlier that morning. Meanwhile high overhead, Sergeant Mathies shook off his personal frustration over the aborted landing and climbed to 1600 feet, just below the overcast. On his first pass above the airfield the gunners checked out Joe Rex's parachute, placed his hand in the D-ring and, at the appropriate moment pushed their comrade out the aft escape hatch. Russell Robinson jumped shortly behind Rex but by the time he had cleared the slip-stream, Ten Horsepower had zipped beyond the airfield. Mathies gingerly brought her around for another pass.
On this next pass and before reaching the airfield Mac Hagbo jumped, hoping there would be sufficient time for the other two gunners to get also, thereby eliminating the need for a third high-altitude run. Tom Sowell tumbled out of the hatch next and Carl Moore, the last remaining gunner, prepared to make his own jump.
"Before going aft to bail out, Moore shook hands with Archie Mathies and wondered if it would be the last time. Then he stepped past his top turret and climbed through the bomb bay and into the radio room. Walter Truemper looked up and smiled at his crew mate, and again Carl extended his hand. In that brief moment, each man silently asked God to protect the other, and the two friends parted. Moore moved aft through the now empty fuselage to the open crew door. He turned and looked forward again. Through the open bulkheads of the radio room and bomb bay, Carl saw that Archie had turned around in his seat at the same instant. Moore gave the thumbs up, and Mathies returned the sign, but quickly turned back to the controls. Carl Moore took a deep breath, and moved to jump."*
Archie and Walter Truemper were alone now, save for the body of Flight Officer Bartley and the unconscious Lieutenant Nelson, to face whatever fate lay ahead of them as they tried to accomplish the impossible. And then they were no longer alone--while the gunners had been jumping from Ten Horsepower during the two high passes over the airfield, Major Ledoux had got My Princess airborne and climbed to try and help the two valiant young airmen down. Colonel Romig flew in the right-hand seat. While five parachutes floated slowly earthward, with an obviously in-trouble Fortress flying erratically above, and with both the Group and Squadron commanders climbing for altitude, an audience of anxious ground-crewman gathered to hold their breath and peer anxiously at the ominous skies above. Few knew exactly what was happening, but all knew they were witnessing something highly unusual. They were silent witnesses to one of the most unforgettable dramas in Eighth Air Force history.
Physical exhaustion, the frigid wind streaming through the windshield, and the sheer terror that had nagged at his psyche for hours became quickly evident in Sergeant Mathies efforts to keep his plane airborne. As My Princess maneuvered ever closer above and off Ten Horsepower's right wing, Major Ledoux did his best to get close enough to inspect the damage to the other bomber, yet keep enough distance to avoid colliding with its erratic flight. From the distance he could see the ragged holes that moved from Ten Horsepower's tail to the waist gun positions, as well as the fist-size holes in the Plexiglas of Joe Rex's radio room turret. The right aileron was badly damaged and fluttering in the wind as if it were about to suddenly rip away from the wings.
Drawing closer, Ledoux and Romig at last were able to scan the cockpit, noting the damage that had been wrought. Archie Mathies looked through the jagged edges of the window and started to wave at them, Ten Horsepower jerking upwards fifty feet as he momentarily loosened his grip on the controls. Mathies quickly focused all of his attention back on flying the bomber as Ledoux jockeyed My Princess to put more air between the two of them in order to avoid a potential mid-air collision.
Colonel Romig attempted to contact A-Able via the radio, and was unsuccessful in reaching Walter Truemper. The tower advised that though Truemper could communicate with the tower, ship-to-ship communications was apparently impossible. This further complicated an already desperate situation. In order to communicate with the brave young Flight Engineer in the cock pit of Ten Horsepower, Colonel Romig had to pass information to the tower, which in turn relayed the Group Commander's instructions to Lieutenant Truemper, who in turn passed it on to Mathies.
As both bombers neared the Polebrook runway Major Ledoux did his best to guide Ten Horsepower in for a landing. In a 1987 speech at Mathies NCO Academy dedication he recalled those fearful moments:
"We couldn't fly very close formation because a collision was more a probability than a possibility. We attempted to try and contact them again by radio but it was absolutely impossible, so we relayed the messages to them through the tower; a sort of a two-way relay of messages. We told them that we would fly alongside and that we would try to guide them in for a landing. We attempted to do this again, and the landing looked like it was going to be accomplished, and it could have been accomplished however, they still didn't seem to be able to slow down the aircraft enough to cause it to stall for an actual landing. So they went around again."
By this time the returning aircraft of the morning's mission were beginning to return to England. In a matter of a few minutes the skies would be swarming with aircraft. Time was running out, daylight was fading, and Archie Mathies had already exceeded far beyond a reasonable level of endurance. Shaking off his frustration a second time, his wide turn as he climbed for air after missing the second landing took him wide over England and near the airfield at Molesworth, home of the 303d Bombardment Group. The air above Molesworth was not yet crowded with returning bombers and Major Ledoux suggested that the next landing attempt be made there. Gently guiding Ten Horsepower in, Major Ledoux and Colonel Romig held their breath as Mathies lowered the flaps. The air speed slowed and for a moment it looked like the third time would be the charm. But, whether due to damage that rendered the bomber difficult to control, the inexperience of the man at the controls, extreme fatigue, or perhaps a combination of all of them, Ten Horsepower overshot the runway and climbed for air again.
It was now increasingly obvious to Colonel Romig that hope for a landing was fading. Relaying his message through the tower to Walter Truemper in the radio room of Ten Horsepower, Romig issued alternative instructions. He told Truemper to have Mathies point the bomber out towards the sea, put it on automatic pilot, and then the two survivors were to parachute to safety.
Both Mathies and Truemper fully understood the implications of that order. While they floated to earth, Ten Horsepower would fly out over the sea until it ran out of fuel and then crash, taking Lieutenant Nelson to a certain death. Despite their own extreme situation, neither man was willing to forfeit any chance Lieutenant Nelson might have of surviving in order to save their own life. Truemper advised Colonel Romig that the two men would jump only if ORDERED to do so, but that the two of them would only do so reluctantly. Truemper further advised Colonel Romig that the auto-pilot was so damaged as to possibly fail, dooming all of them anyway. For Romig is was a difficult call and the responsibility of command weighted heavily on his shoulders. At last he radioed permission for Ten Horsepower to turn back to Polebrook and attempt once again to land there.
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