~~~ in addition ~~~
by Maurice Silber
I volunteered for service in the Army Air Corps in World War II and was sent to Nashville, Tenn. My hopes in being assigned to flight training did not materialize and like everyone else went into basic training for several weeks at Gulfport, Mississippi. This entailed the usual drilling and marching. The physical exercises exerted us to the maximum with long-distance running, hand-to-hand combat, bayonet practice, weaponry, survival techniques, etc.
From there I went to Harlingen, Texas and aerial gunnery school. This was to be a concentrated course in all aspects of gunnery. All sorts of weapons were used. This included the dismantling blindfolded of all these weapons and reassembling with records kept in the time this was done. The main aerial weapon was the 50 cal. machine gun and in flight problems of ballistics involving altitude, air speed, range, gravity, direction of flight, relative speeds of attackers closing angles and so forth had to be overcome. Also part of this aspect was the knowledge in the use of turrets operated electrically and hydraulically in conjunction with the twin 50s. Coordination was vital in using azimuth and zenith controls. I was asked to stay on as instructor but declined as I was anxious to see active duty.
My next base was Keesler Field, Mississippi where I learned airplane engine mechanics and the operation of aircraft. This was a total involvement engineering-wise of every part of the aircraft, from the nose to the tail and concerned the B-24 Liberator bomber and the B-17 Flying Fortress. After my schooling at Keesler Field I was sent to Salt Lake City for integration with other members of the Air Force who had other specialties such as radio, navigation, bombardiers, pilots etc. This was to be my crew for the duration, to live together, train together and fly together. For the next several months we as a crew learned to live and fly together out of Casper, Wyoming in all kinds of weather, at high altitudes, cross country, mock bombing missions, and also with live ammo and bombs. I was assigned to fly with the group commander in the lead plane nearly always. I took it upon myself to send for all the literature I could get my hands on from the various aircraft companies concerning the B-24 and the B-17. I also got permission to do some Link Trainer "flying" which was not in the book for me. One of the many incidents I recall which came in handy in combat was to have a defective bomb shackle not release properly on a practice mission, and having it hung up nose down. I climbed out into the open bomb bay sans parachute, defused the bomb and released it with a screwdriver as my only tool.
The time came for going abroad and we flew our new B-24 cross country to our take off point on the northeast coast of the U.S. From there we flew across the Atlantic via Labrador and Iceland. As flight engineer I was constantly alert to all instrument readings and was engaged in transferring fuel, keeping logs and general performance was my domain. The pilot was constantly apprised of all conditions pertaining to the aircraft, and I was relied upon to see that it was airworthy.
Once in England we were assigned to a psychological warfare squadron. This was a secret operation as it entailed dropping agents in different parts of Europe at night behind the enemy lines. Part of this operation was the dissemination of billions of propaganda leaflets. Current news of the conduct of the war and its progress in the form of one page, two sided leaflets were dropped over Germany and occupied territories informing of the deteriorating situation in Hitler's Europe. Safe conduct and surrender leaflets were dropped daily and maximum demoralization of the enemy was the object. We delivered the news to captured peoples and received the thanks and commendation of many exiled governments.
My squadron was the only heavy bomber unit in the entire Eighth Air Force to fly "lone wolf" missions at night. We flew singly, each plane to a different target, deep into enemy territory with no fighter escort. The missions were long, tedious, cold, under all sorts of weather conditions and were subject to German night fighter and anti-aircraft fire. I flew 43 combat missions under all sorts of conditions including mechanical failures, fire, fuel leaks, coned by searchlights and being fired upon by friendly forces. The 406th Bomb Squadron was unique in that it was so secret that I was shot down by the British upon return from my 37th mission over enemy held territory on March 4/5, 1945. I was chosen to fly with the group commander as his flight engineer and top turret gunner on that fateful mission. Lt. Col. Aber and co-pilot Harper both lost their lives, there were several seriously wounded and I ended up in a hospital. Upon release I went back to flying duty to complete my combat tour and was in the air over Hamburg when I heard that Germany surrendered.
To backtrack, I was responsible for my aircraft and all its functions. On the ground I had a crew chief and mechanics responsible to me for the maintenance of the plane and to keep it in combat readiness. I personally checked everything before missions and preflighted it, started up the engines, checked all instruments and had the authority to ground the plane. In the air the pilot would depend on me to help, which was part of my duty, in the function of the aircraft. I can say many a time I saved the lives of our crew. I considered myself a topflight engineer versed in all phases of the B-17 and the B-24, both of which I flew in and out of combat. I was objective in all my work and upon return from missions was interrogated by intelligence. Of interest may be the fact that not only I but the crew reported seeing the same thing on one of our missions at night and that was a positive identification and behavior of an unidentified flying object accompanying us and then shooting straight up into the stratosphere at incredible speed and vanishing, a glowing orange colored oval shaped ball.
The documentation of the squadron and myself are in the National Archives including comments from the enemy. A voluminous book entitled "Leaflet Operations in the Second World War" by James M. Erdmann, Prof. of History at the University of Denver, a major study, including a chapter of that fateful mission is on record. More in the Reader's Digest Nov. 1945, "Scarlet Pimpernels of the Air" by Allen A. Michie. I received the Air Medal with six oak leaf clusters, Presidential Unit Citation and European-African-Middle Eastern Service Medal and was engaged in four major battles and campaigns, flying forty three combat missions in B-17 and B-24 aircraft.
On March 4th, 1945 between 2115 and 2120 hrs. I was returning from Rotterdam over the North Sea on an unescorted "Lone Wolf" night leaflet bombing mission in a B-17 Flying Fortress when we were hit by British anti-aircraft flack. We were caught in the middle of a German air raid and there were German fighters and bombers all around us. (Reference British report from the Ministry of Defence dated January 1990 and "The bomber command war diaries" dated March 4, 1945, were our B-17 is listed as MIA.)
We received a direct hit over the water. The controls were shot away, bombardier was seriously hit in the head, tail gunner, waist gunner and ball turret gunner were all hit with flack. I was on top turret, as flight engineer, transferring fuel at the time we were hit. The third and fourth engine went out and caught fire. The plane began shaking out of control and cables were dangling. The pilot and copilot attempted to locate an emergency field at Woodbridge. We lost altitude from 10,000 to 5000 ft. it seemed within seconds. When the pilot said "Hit the silk" I dropped out of my turret went to the flight deck. It was full of smoke and fuel leaks. I grabbed Colonel Aber's and LT. Maurice Harper's parachute chest packs and tried to hand it to them but they were too busy fighting the controls, so I put it between them and tapped them to let them know. There was continuous flack throughout. I went back up to my position in the upper turret, plugged in the intercom and heard Col. Aber say to me when I queried him, "Are you guys still there? Hit the silk, get out! I dropped out of the turret and went to the escape hatch with much difficulty due to centrifugal force as the plane was spinning down and unstable. There was fire on the flight deck and I made it through to the forward escape hatch. The hatch would not open and the guys were behind me screaming, "What are you waiting for!" I pulled out the hinges and it still wouldn't open, it was sprung from having been hit with flack. I then leaned against the bulkhead and with both feet and all the strength I had I kicked it open and it fell away.
We were in a dive and I jumped out feet first and tumbled out. I wanted to open my chute immediately but I remembered my training and waited a few seconds so I wouldn't get tangled with the others. The plane was going down in flames parallel to me. When my chute opened I was in the wrong position and couldn't control my tumbling. Due to the position I was in, when my chute opened and I came to a dead stop, my boots and helmet were torn from me. I thought I had broken my neck and my back and I felt very weak. I was drifting backwards and knew that I needed to turn the chute to land. But when I tried to turn it I just didn't have the strength. It was very dark and I thought I was over water and I feared I might drown. Immediately after trying to turn my chute the ship crashed and exploded in a ball of flames directly below me. I was just hanging in my chute lifelessly drifting down when I hit the ground backwards and landed on my back and on my head. I must have landed on the edge of a culvert. My feet touched down on the edge and I was thrown backwards, landing almost on my head upside down, into the five or six foot ditch. I laid there semi-conscious and totally dazed for a few minutes. When I heard cries for help I struggled out of the ditch. It was very difficult to move because I was weak from smoke inhalation and I was in a lot of pain from the fall. In addition, I found myself with cuts and scratches and I was bleeding from fighting my way down to the hatch and from forcing it open. I then began moving in the direction of the cries taking my first aid kit. Then, I took a few steps on the road and suddenly bright light appeared in my face. They were no more than ten feet away from me and I recognized them as British soldiers. Their weapons were pointed at me and I thought I would be shot so I began cursing in the worst Brooklynese I knew, "You stupid bastards! You shot down an American B-17," and other curse words. They lowered their guns in great surprise, they thought I was German.
The British soldiers took me to a civilian hospital outside of Dovercourt. It was a "Priory" turned into a Hospital. (Reference: Letter from Essex County Council Libraries dated June 7th, 1991 with attached picture of the Priory) I remember nuns in habits ministering to me. I lay there for at least a couple of days and I was in a lot of pain from my back, neck, shoulders and head. From there I was taken back to my original base in Cheddington and it was completely closed down. I don't remember how I got back to the new base in Harrington. However, when I got there I was put into the base hospital for approximately one week. Patient records are probably not available because the hospital was still being set up from the move. I was then grounded by the flight surgeon and assigned to rest in my quarters for approximately six weeks.
During that time I was grounded I started going to the orderly room asking to be put back on flying duty. I exaggerated my well-being because I wanted to complete my tour and fulfill my obligation. Also, being Jewish I felt very strongly about doing my share to stop Hitler. When I was finally put back on flight duty, after insisting, I flew five more missions. I was still in physical pain from my injuries but I was able to perform my duties. (See Military Physical Exam dated 21 Sep 45, which documents back injury and treatment due to parachute jump and notarized letter from Joseph A. Trexler, Jr. who visited me while I was in the hospital.)
I have been treated privately and at the V.A. in New York for head, neck and back injuries sustained during my forced bailout. (See attached records from VA treatment: Letter from John Cobb M.D. dated 4th of April 1946 and VA form 8-576A authorizing treatment for service connected back injury.) These conditions have gotten progressively worse with age and are now causing severe lower back pain, my back is completely distorted with severe scoliosis and Kyphosis and I have difficulty walking because of the above mentioned and degenerative arthritis of the spine.
