The 456th Bombardment Squadron (part of the 323rd Bomb Group, 9th Air Force) Ray Harwood

B26 MARAUDER MAGAZINE Ray Harwood Copyright © 2025 All rights reserved. ISBN: See Back Cover DEDICATIOn The 456th Bombardment Squadron (part of the 323rd Bomb Group, 9th Air Force) . HELP IS AVAILABLE WE CARE! SUICIDE CRISIS LIFELINE DIAL 988 FAIR USE: Copyright Disclaimer under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Educational research such as this journal tips the balance in favor of fair use. All art illustrations and art are for research and study purposes. I want everyone to take note, I am the son of a Marauder Man, I am not a professional writer or editor. Each experience, each life is different and each experience is different. Please do not criticize, I know everyone out there related to or in the study of Marauders and Marauder Men will have different opinions, experiences and viewpoints. There are many books and journals with a wealth of information. You are welcome to send in articles, stories, photos, art, anything related to this topic. Although some articles are very specific and detailed , others are much less so and speak in generalities. No matter how hard I try this publication will fall short in honoring the great sacrifice and deeds of the brave Marauder Men and the amazing aircraft that they shared. God Bless The Marauder Men. The Martin B-26 Marauder, a medium bomber used extensively during World War II, holds a significant place in aviation history. Reflecting on its history through a dedicated journal provides numerous benefits, both for historical preservation and contemporary understanding. Such a journal serves as a repository of knowledge, an educational tool, and a means of honoring the legacy of those who flew and maintained the aircraft. I make no money off this publication. Ray Harwood the Air and Ground Crews of the 456th Bombardment Squadron: The 456th Bombardment Squadron (part of the 323rd Bomb Group, 9th Air Force) flew Martin B-26 Marauders in the European Theater (ETO) from July 1943 to April 1945, focusing on tactical interdiction missions. They attacked enemy airfields, bridges, rail lines, and shipping to support Allied advances, specifically during the buildup to and aftermath of D-Day. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5] Key Operations & Missions (456th Bombardment Squadron, 9th Air Force) Initial Operations (1943): Began operations from RAF Earls Colne, England, targeting German-occupied sites in France and the Low Countries. Normandy Invasion (1944): Flew numerous sorties attacking coastal defense gun positions, transport hubs, and bridges to isolate the Normandy battlefield. Western Europe Campaign (1944–1945): Moved to France (Lessay, Chartres, Laon) to support Allied advances through France, Belgium, and Germany, often striking fuel depots, marshalling yards, and troop concentrations. Key Campaigns: Participated in the Air Offensive over Europe, Normandy, Northern France, Rhineland, Ardennes-Alsace, and Central Europe. Distinguished Unit Citation (DUC): Awarded for actions in Belgium and Germany between 24–27 December 1944. Final Mission: Ended combat in April 1945, subsequently participating in the disarmament of the German Air Force. [1, 2, 3, 4] Squadron Details Aircraft: Martin B-26 Marauder. Stations: Earls Colne (1943), Beaulieu (1944), Lessay, Chartres, Laon/Athies, Denain/Prouvy (1945). [1] Note: The 456th Bombardment Squadron (9th Air Force, B-26) should not be confused with the 456th Bombardment Group (15th Air Force, B-24), which operated in Italy. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5] 456th Bomb Squadron, Bomb Squadron of the 323rd Bomb Group Winter 2026 Edition – B-26 Marauder Magazine Few aircraft of the Second World War carried a reputation as dramatic—or as misunderstood—as the Martin B‑26 Marauder. Fast, sleek, and initially controversial, the Marauder eventually became one of the most effective medium bombers of the war, flown by determined crews whose courage and skill helped bring the conflict to its end. In this Winter 2026 issue of B-26 Marauder Magazine, we turn our focus not only to the aircraft itself, but to the personal histories and ongoing research that keep the legacy of these airmen alive today. A central feature in this issue comes from researcher Ray Harwood, who continues the historical work begun by his brother, Theodore Harwood Jr. Their research centers on the wartime service of their relative, Theodore V. Harwood, who served as a pilot in the 456th Bombardment Squadron of the 323rd Bombardment Group during the critical years of 1943–1945. Flying the formidable Marauder over the European Theater, 1st Lt. Harwood was part of a generation of young airmen who faced extraordinary risks in the skies over occupied Europe. The foundation of this research lies in a remarkable collection of letters sent home during the war, written by Harwood while actively serving as a pilot. These letters offer an unfiltered glimpse into the daily realities of combat aviation: the tension before missions, the camaraderie among crewmen, and the quiet reflections of a young officer serving far from home during one of history’s most dangerous conflicts. The Harwood brothers’ effort to preserve and publish these materials has itself become a story worth telling. In the 1970s, Ray Harwood originally attempted to document this history in a book focused on the wartime experiences of Lt. Harwood and the Marauder crews of the 323rd Group. Decades later, he revisited that work and attempted to bring it to a new audience through Amazon’s publishing platform. But as many independent historians have discovered, the modern world of digital publishing can be as challenging as the archival research itself. Technical hurdles, formatting problems, and repeated uploading issues have made the re-release of the book difficult. What has emerged so far, by Harwood’s own account, is something of a rough and imperfect publication—far from the polished historical work he originally envisioned. Yet the difficulties of modern publishing have not slowed the deeper research. In this issue, B-26 Marauder Magazine shifts attention to the individual aircraft themselves—the very machines that carried these crews into combat. The pages that follow examine the specific Marauders flown by pilots of the 456th Bomb Squadron, including those aircraft flown by 1st Lt. Theodore V. Harwood during his wartime service. Each bomber had its own identity, nose art, maintenance history, crew stories, and combat record. Together they form a mosaic of the operational history of the 323rd Bomb Group during the air war in Europe. By focusing on these individual aircraft, this issue seeks to bring readers closer to the lived experience of the Marauder crews. These were not anonymous machines—they were the aircraft young pilots trusted with their lives. The continuing research of Ray and Theodore Harwood reminds us that the history of World War II is still being uncovered piece by piece. Letters, flight logs, photographs, and personal accounts continue to surface decades later, helping historians reconstruct the human stories behind the missions. And that, ultimately, is what this magazine is about. Not just airplanes.
Not just military units. But the men who flew them—and the families, researchers, and historians who continue to preserve their stories for future generations. Welcome to the Winter 2026 edition of B-26 Marauder Magazine. Approximately 5,200 Martin B-26 Marauders were manufactured during WWII, serving primarily in the European Theater (ETO) with groups like the 322nd, 323rd, 344th, and 386th, as well as in the Pacific. Known as "Flak-Bait" or "the Marauder," these medium bombers flew 110,000+ sorties and were nicknamed "Widowmakers" early on due to high landing speeds.  Key B-26 Marauder Units in WWII  322nd Bombardment Group: First to fly in the ETO (May 1943). 323rd Bombardment Group: Active July 1943 to April 1945. 344th Bombardment Group: Active March 1944 to April 1945, supported D-Day. 386th Bombardment Group: Active June 1943 to May 1945. 387th Bombardment Group: Active June 1943 to April 1945. 391st Bombardment Group: Active February 1944 to May 1945. 394th Bombardment Group: Active March 1944 to April 1945. 397th Bombardment Group: Active April 1944 to April 1945. 22nd Bombardment Group: Served in the Pacific.  Notable Individual Aircraft  "Flak-Bait" (B-26B-25-MA): Famous aircraft that survived 207 operational missions (National Air and Space Museum). "Shirley D 2" (387th Bomb Group): A notable aircraft mentioned in crew records.  Variants and Production Production began in 1940, with notable variants including the B-26B and B-26C, which saw modifications like extended wings and larger tails to improve handling issues reported in early models.  White Tails: The Wartime Story of the 323rd Bombardment Group Among the many bomber units that carried the Allied air war deep into occupied Europe, few developed the reputation for determination and efficiency achieved by the 323rd Bombardment Group of the United States Army Air Forces. Flying the sleek and formidable Martin B-26 Marauder medium bomber, the group would eventually earn distinction across some of the most important campaigns of the Second World War. Their emblem symbolized that spirit of courage and speed. The group insignia featured a shield divided diagonally: on one side a mailed gauntlet grasping a dagger, on the other the winged hat of Mercury—messenger of the gods. Beneath it appeared the Latin motto “Vincamus Sine Timoris” — Without Fear We Conquer. It was an ideal that would come to define the men who flew under the group’s banner. Yet the 323rd was perhaps best known by another name: “The White Tails.” The nickname came from the distinctive white identification bar painted on the tails of the group’s aircraft, a simple visual marking that became synonymous with some of the most aggressive medium-bomber operations in the European theater. Formation and Training in America The 323rd Bombardment Group was constituted on June 19, 1942, during the rapid expansion of the Army Air Forces that followed America’s entry into World War II. The unit was activated on August 4, 1942 at Columbia Army Air Base in South Carolina, where the first cadre of officers and enlisted men began organizing the group. Training soon moved south to MacDill Field in Florida on August 21, 1942, where the crews began learning to operate the powerful new B-26 Marauder. The aircraft had a reputation for being fast, demanding, and unforgiving for inexperienced pilots. Early accidents during stateside training had given the Marauder a notorious nickname—“the Widowmaker”—but with proper training it proved to be one of the most effective bombers of the war. In November 1942, the group relocated to the Myrtle Beach Bombing Range in South Carolina, where intensive training continued for several months. Here the aircrews practiced formation flying, navigation, bombing accuracy, and low-level attack techniques that would later be used against targets across occupied Europe. By February 1943, the group received new B-26C models at Bear Field in Indiana, and preparations began for overseas deployment. The ground echelon departed the United States in April 1943, boarding the famous liner RMS Queen Elizabeth on May 5. After crossing the Atlantic, the troops arrived in Gourock, Scotland on May 11, 1943. Meanwhile, the aircraft themselves flew across the Atlantic via ferry routes. Most squadrons traveled along the southern route through South America and Africa, while the 456th Bomb Squadron flew by the northern route through Newfoundland and Greenland. Into the European Air War Upon arrival in Britain, the group was first assigned to the Eighth Air Force, the primary American strategic bombing force in Europe. Operating initially from Horham and later Earls Colne in England, the group began combat operations in July 1943. Their first target was the Abbeville marshaling yards in France, a vital rail hub supporting German logistics. It marked the beginning of nearly two years of relentless combat. During these early months the 323rd attacked a wide range of targets across France, Belgium, and the Netherlands. These included: Rail yards and transportation hubs Luftwaffe airfields Industrial plants Military installations Coastal defenses The group’s missions required tight formation flying and extreme precision. The B-26 Marauder was built for speed and accuracy, and its crews frequently flew through intense anti-aircraft fire to deliver bombs directly onto enemy infrastructure. Transfer to the Ninth Air Force On October 16, 1943, the group was reassigned to the Ninth Air Force, which focused primarily on tactical bombing in support of ground forces. One of the most significant operations of this period came during “Big Week” in February 1944, the massive Allied air offensive against the German aircraft industry. The 323rd participated in attacks against airfields at Leeuwarden and Venlo, striking directly at the Luftwaffe’s ability to defend German airspace. As preparations intensified for the Allied invasion of Western Europe, the White Tails turned their attention to targets along the French coast. In the months leading up to D-Day, the group conducted repeated attacks against German coastal batteries and V-weapon launch sites. D-Day and the Breakout from Normandy On June 6, 1944—D-Day itself—the 323rd Bombardment Group bombed German coastal defenses, helping neutralize artillery that threatened the Allied landing forces. Only weeks later, the group played another critical role during the breakthrough at St. Lô in July 1944, delivering heavy bombardments that helped Allied ground forces finally break through the German defensive lines in Normandy. Soon afterward the group moved forward to newly captured bases on the European continent. Beginning in August 1944, the 323rd operated from a series of rapidly advancing airfields across France, including Lessay, Chartres, and Laon. It was during this period that the group began flying night missions, striking German artillery positions, ammunition depots, and fuel dumps in support of advancing Allied troops. Into Germany and the Battle of the Bulge By late 1944, the Allied armies were pushing toward the German frontier. The 323rd shifted operations eastward to support the campaign against the formidable Siegfried Line, Germany’s fortified defensive belt. During the brutal winter of 1944–1945, the group distinguished itself during the Battle of the Bulge, the last major German offensive in the West. Between December 24 and December 27, 1944, the White Tails launched repeated attacks against German transportation networks that were carrying reinforcements into the Ardennes. These missions disrupted enemy supply lines at a critical moment in the battle. For their actions during this period, the 323rd Bombardment Group was awarded the Distinguished Unit Citation. Final Missions of the War As the Allied armies advanced into Germany in early 1945, the group continued flying interdiction missions against bridges, rail lines, and communication centers in the Ruhr industrial region. The final combat mission of the group took place on April 25, 1945, when Marauders of the 323rd bombed the Erding airfield in Germany, a base used by advanced German aircraft including the revolutionary **Messerschmitt Me 262 jet fighter. It was the last entry in a long combat record. The Numbers Behind the Story During its wartime service, the 323rd Bombardment Group compiled an extraordinary operational record: 318 combat missions flown 11,424 individual sorties 15,067 tons of bombs dropped Behind those statistics were thousands of pilots, navigators, bombardiers, gunners, and ground crews who kept the Marauders flying day after day. Among the group’s aircraft was B-26C “Paper Dolly II” (42-107596) of the 454th Squadron, one of the many Marauders that helped lead bombing raids deep into Germany during the later stages of the war. The End of the War With Germany defeated in May 1945, the group moved to bases in Germany to assist with the disarmament and occupation program. Later that year the unit returned to France and prepared for redeployment back to the United States. The 323rd Bombardment Group finally returned home in December 1945 and was officially inactivated on December 12, 1945. Legacy of the White Tails The 323rd Bombardment Group’s wartime service spanned every major campaign in Western Europe: Air Offensive, Europe Normandy Northern France Rhineland Ardennes-Alsace Central Europe Their distinctive white-tailed Marauders became a familiar sight in the skies over occupied Europe—symbols of speed, accuracy, and relentless pressure on German defenses. Today the story of the White Tails remains one of the proud chapters in the history of the Martin B-26 Marauder, and a lasting tribute to the airmen who lived by the group’s motto: “Without Fear We Conquer.” Earls Colne: From Bomber Base to Modern Heritage Site Nestled in the heart of Essex, Earls Colne airfield boasts a storied history that stretches back to the height of the Second World War. Built in 1941 for No. 3 Group, RAF Bomber Command, the airfield was never actually used for its original purpose. By 1942, it had been assigned to the US Eighth Air Force as Station 358, and the site was expanded with 36 hardstands increased to 50, elevating Earls Colne to the Air Ministry’s ‘Class A’ standard. A significant portion of the airfield occupied land requisitioned from the historic Marks Hall estate, whose Jacobean mansion was taken over by various USAAF headquarters units in December 1942, cementing its role as a hub of Allied operations. Earls Colne’s first operational tenants were B-17F Flying Fortresses of the Eighth Air Force’s 94th Bomb Group, arriving in May 1943. Their tenure was brief; by 13 June, the four squadrons had moved on to Rougham, Suffolk, after suffering heavy losses—nine bombers lost during a single mission to Kiel. In July 1943, the airfield welcomed B-26 Marauder medium bombers of the 323rd Bomb Group, which remained at Earls Colne until July 1944. During this time, the group transferred to the US Ninth Air Force on 16 October 1943, marking a new chapter in its combat operations over Europe. Meanwhile, Marks Hall continued to serve as a critical command hub. Initially housing the Eighth Air Force’s 4th Bomb Wing headquarters, it was later redesignated in October 1943 as the command and control centre for the Ninth Air Force’s IX Bomber Command. At this stage, Earls Colne itself became the headquarters for the 98th Combat Bomb Wing, while still hosting the 323rd Bomb Group, underscoring its dual role as both operational base and strategic nerve centre. After the Americans departed for the Normandy campaign in the summer of 1944, the airfield returned to RAF control, welcoming 296 and 297 Squadrons, which operated Halifax aircraft in army co-operation roles until May 1946. Today, Earls Colne has been transformed for civilian use while still retaining echoes of its wartime past. The site now accommodates an industrial park, golf course, leisure centre, and a small airstrip used by a flying school. Most notably, it serves as the base for the Essex Air Ambulance, ensuring that, more than 80 years on, Earls Colne continues to play a vital role in the skies of Essex. Original Ground & Support Personnel  The squadron's ground echelon departed Myrtle Beach for England on May 5, 1943, aboard the RMS Queen Elizabeth. Notable personnel identified from early reunions and squadron records include:  456th Bombardment Squadron (Medium) – Personnel Overview There is no single complete public list of every member of the 456th Bomb Squadron readily compiled in one place. The unit included hundreds of aircrew and ground personnel, rotating over time due to casualties, transfers, and new arrivals. However, I can give you: Typical B-26 Marauder Crew (per aircraft) Each plane usually had 6–7 men: Pilot Co-Pilot Navigator Bombardier Radio Operator/Gunner Engineer/Top Turret Gunner Tail Gunner Ground Crew & Support Roles (rarely fully documented in squadron summaries, but essential) Crew chiefs Armorers Mechanics Radio technicians Ordnance handlers Fuel specialists Story of “The Gremlin II” – A D-Day Combat Aircraft Among the thousands of Allied aircraft that filled the skies over France during the historic D‑Day, one bomber carried a name that would become a small but fascinating piece of aviation history: “The Gremlin II.” Designated Object Number UPL 41387 – WT-B, the aircraft was flown by John D. Helton, a highly experienced pilot of the 323rd Bombardment Group of the U.S. Army Air Forces. Within his unit, Capt. Helton was known for flying more combat missions than any other airman in the group, making him one of its most seasoned combat leaders. First The Crew of “The Gremlin II” Like most medium bombers of the time, the aircraft depended on a tight-knit crew whose coordination determined whether a mission succeeded or failed. Crew Members: John D. Helton – Pilot
Commanding the aircraft and responsible for navigating hostile skies and anti-aircraft fire. Lt. Watson – Navigator
Guiding the aircraft across the English Channel and through the complex air corridors over occupied France. Walt Foster – Bombardier
Operating the bombsight and releasing the payload precisely on designated targets. Together, they formed the operational core of “The Gremlin II,” working in coordination with the rest of the bomber formation. Mission: Caen Road Junctions – June 6, 1944 On the afternoon of June 6, 1944, the aircraft participated in one of the many bombing missions designed to cripple German mobility during the Normandy invasion. The target: critical road junctions near the city of Caen. These junctions were essential for German troop movements toward the invasion beaches, including forces attempting to reach: Omaha Beach Utah Beach Gold Beach Juno Beach Sword Beach By destroying transportation hubs, Allied planners hoped to delay German reinforcements, giving the landing forces time to establish a foothold in France. The Flight to France Archival material preserved by Critical Past provides a rare glimpse of the mission. The footage shows: “The Gremlin II” flying in formation Positioned in Box I, Flight 1 Approaching the French coastline around 4:15 p.m. on June 6, 1944 This formation flying was essential. Bomber groups depended on tight defensive formations so that multiple aircraft could concentrate machine-gun fire against attacking German fighters. The scene would have been dramatic: Hundreds of bombers droning across the Channel…
contrails and engine smoke stretching across the sky…
the coast of Normandy slowly appearing through haze. For the crews inside the aircraft, however, it was anything but cinematic—it was another dangerous mission over heavily defended territory. The 323rd Bomb Group’s Role in D-Day The 323rd Bombardment Group flew the Martin B‑26 Marauder, one of the fastest and most heavily armed medium bombers of the war. Their D-Day assignments included: Bombing transportation networks Destroying bridges and road junctions Disrupting German reinforcements moving toward the beaches The Marauder had once been nicknamed “The Widowmaker” early in the war because of its high landing speed. But by 1944 it had become one of the safest and most effective bombers in the European Theater, with the lowest loss rate of any U.S. bomber type. A Small Story Inside a Huge Operation While the Normandy invasion involved thousands of aircraft and ships, the story of “The Gremlin II” reminds us that history is often built from individual crews and aircraft—each with its own name, personality, and record of missions. For Capt. John D. Helton, leading his aircraft toward the French coast that afternoon meant adding another mission to an already remarkable combat record. And somewhere in the archival film from that day, “The Gremlin II” can still be seen flying toward history. The First Night Combat Mission of “The Gremlin II” In the long operational history of the Martin B-26 Marauder, few aircraft accumulated as many stories as UPL 41387 – WT-B, “The Gremlin II.” Earlier in the war the aircraft had flown combat missions with veteran pilot John D. Helton of the 323rd Bombardment Group, including operations connected with the historic D-Day. But another dramatic chapter in the aircraft’s history occurred two months later—on the night of August 13, 1944, when a new crew prepared to fly their first combat mission in the same bomber. Mission #235 – Target: Flers Fuel Dump The mission was officially designated Target/Mission #235 of the 456th Squadron of the 323rd Bombardment Group. On that night, Theodore V. Harwood, serving as co-pilot, climbed aboard B-26 Marauder 41-31708 – “The Gremlin II.” The aircraft lifted from its base at RAF Beaulieu, part of a strike force of 34 Marauders accompanied by three pathfinder aircraft. Their target lay deep inside occupied France: a German fuel storage facility near the town of Flers. The attack would be conducted at night from 7,500 feet, and each aircraft carried a deadly cargo—
28 bombs weighing 100 pounds each. The mission would last roughly three hours. The Crew of “The Gremlin II” For this mission, the aircraft carried a full combat crew: Theodore V. Harwood – Co-Pilot William B. Guerrant Jr. – Pilot John W. Kuczwara – Navigator Jack A. Reynolds – Top Turret Gunner John H. Knight – Engineer Velton J. O'Neal Jr. – Waist Gunner For several of them, this would be their first experience flying into enemy territory under combat conditions. Preparing for the Unknown In a post-war interview preserved by the Pima Air & Space Museum, Harwood vividly described the hours before the mission. He remembered walking onto the dimly lit flight line and seeing aircraft silhouettes scattered in the darkness. Unlike the massive heavy bombers that dominated the European air war, the base that night held mostly smaller attack aircraft: Night fighters Douglas A-20 attack bombers Radar-equipped aircraft painted black for night operations Just before the mission, crews even received a brief French language lesson, taught by a local woman helping the Americans prepare in case they were shot down. Two phrases were drilled into memory: “Je suis Américain” – I am an American “Je suis blessé” – I am wounded Aircrews were instructed to leave behind all personal items—rings, photographs, jewelry, identification papers—anything that might reveal information if captured. Instead, they carried tiny escape kits, each containing: a silk map rations a miniature compass often jokingly called a “butt-hole compass” because it could be hidden anywhere on the body. Pre-Flight on the Marauder Before every mission the B-26 Marauder underwent meticulous inspection. Crewmen checked: hydraulic systems landing gear tire pressure electrical equipment fuel lines Nearby, the rumble of small engines echoed through the darkness as ground equipment sputtered to life, filling the air with the smell of exhaust. Then came the moment that every crew both dreaded and anticipated. The two massive Pratt & Whitney R-2800 engines—each producing 2,000 horsepower—roared awake. Takeoff Through the Barrage Balloons Aircraft departed at 20-second intervals, rolling down the dark runway one by one. British airfields were protected by barrage balloons—large tethered balloons suspended with steel cables designed to rip through low-flying enemy aircraft. Before takeoff, these balloons were lowered just long enough for the bombers to escape. Once airborne, the balloons rose again. Harwood recalled barely clearing one of the balloon cables as the Marauder struggled into the night sky, climbing slowly while the crew raised the flaps and stabilized the aircraft. Flying Blind The mission was conducted under strict radio silence. Inside the cockpit there was almost complete darkness, broken only by faint ultraviolet lamps illuminating the instruments. Each bomber flew alone. Instead of tight formations, aircraft were separated by: 20-second spacing 1,000-foot altitude differences This spacing prevented mid-air collisions in the darkness. Navigation depended on the pathfinder aircraft, which marked the route and the target with flares. When the first flare marked the IP (Initial Point), the bombardier took control of the aircraft using the bombsight. Moments later, another flare illuminated the target. Then came the call every airman waited for: “Bombs away.” Below them, flashes of explosions erupted across the fuel depot. Flak Over the Channel Islands The return trip proved far more dangerous. While heading home, the bombers drifted over the heavily fortified Guernsey, still occupied by German forces. Suddenly a massive parachute flare exploded in the sky. The night turned into daylight. In that instant, the Marauders became perfect silhouettes against the illuminated clouds. Moments later the German anti-aircraft guns opened fire. The dreaded 88-millimeter flak guns sent shells screaming upward. Each shell was designed to explode at a calculated altitude, filling the air with deadly steel fragments. A single burst created a sphere of destruction roughly 60 yards wide, and even fragments hundreds of yards away could rip through aircraft skin. Searchlights stabbed at the sky while explosions lit the darkness. For a moment the entire bomber stream hung exposed in the glowing flare. Then the light faded. The bombers continued westward. Gradually the bursts of flak disappeared behind them. Safe Return Against the odds, “The Gremlin II” and its crew returned safely to RAF Beaulieu. No injuries. No battle damage. Harwood later recalled simply going to bed afterward. “I slept well that night.” According to post-war reports cited by John O. Moench, crews returning from the mission reported massive explosions and large fires at the Flers fuel depot, indicating that the attack had achieved its objective. It may not have been the type of mission aircrews enjoyed flying, but it was one more successful strike against the German war machine. Legacy of “The Gremlin II” The history of UPL 41387 – WT-B “The Gremlin II” illustrates the life cycle of many American combat aircraft in the Second World War. The bomber flew: D-Day operations over Normandy Night bombing missions over occupied FranceNumerous missions with different crews of the 323rd Bomb Group Each crew added its own story to the aircraft’s logbook. And for Theodore V. Harwood and his fellow airmen, their first mission aboard “The Gremlin II” was a night they would remember for the rest of their lives. ✈️ If you want, I can also write a companion aviation history piece that many WWII readers love: “Why the B-26 Marauder Became the Safest Bomber of World War II.” It explains how an aircraft once nicknamed “The Widowmaker” ended the war with the lowest loss rate of any U.S. bomber in Europe. Through Flak and Frost: A Day in the Life of 1st Lt. T. V. Harwood, B-26 Marauder Pilot During the Battle of the Bulge In the winter of 1944–1945 March 10, 2026 Through Flak and Frost: A Day in the Life of 1st Lt. T. V. Harwood, B-26 Marauder Pilot During the Battle of the Bulge In the winter of 1944–1945, the war in Europe entered one of its most brutal phases. Snow covered the forests of Belgium and Luxembourg as German forces launched their desperate counteroffensive known as the Battle of the Bulge. While soldiers fought bitterly in frozen foxholes below, the skies above were filled with the roar of Allied bombers supporting the ground war. Among the men flying those missions was 1st Lt. T. V. Harwood, a pilot in the 456th Bomb Squadron of the 323rd Bomb Group. His aircraft was the rugged and feared Martin B-26 Marauder, a twin-engine bomber that had earned a reputation as one of the most effective medium bombers of the war. For Harwood and his crew, every day followed a rhythm shaped by cold weather, danger, and the quiet knowledge that not everyone would come back. Morning in the Frozen Camp Before dawn, the cold crept through the canvas walls of the tent like a living thing. Harwood woke in the dim gray light of winter, his breath visible in the freezing air. The ground beneath his cot was muddy from days of melting snow and constant foot traffic around the temporary airfield somewhere in Allied-held Europe. He pulled on his boots and heavy flight jacket while the wind rattled the tent poles. Outside, the camp was already coming alive. Ground crews shuffled through slush carrying tools and heaters. Mechanics moved between parked bombers, their silhouettes framed by floodlights reflecting off the metal wings of the Marauders. The smell of aviation fuel mixed with damp earth. Breakfast in the mess tent was simple — powdered eggs, coffee, and toast if you were lucky. Pilots and crewmen spoke quietly, conserving energy in the cold. No one joked much on mornings when missions were scheduled. Everyone understood what might lie ahead. The Briefing Soon after breakfast, aircrews gathered in the operations hut for the daily mission briefing. A large map covered the front wall. A red string stretched across it, marking the route toward German positions supporting the offensive in the Ardennes. Intelligence officers explained the target: rail yards and troop concentrations feeding the German advance. Heavy resistance was expected. The Luftwaffe still flew occasionally, but the greater danger would be flak — anti-aircraft guns waiting below. Harwood listened quietly as coordinates were read and bomb loads assigned. The B-26 Marauder carried a heavy payload for a medium bomber and was designed for fast, low-level precision strikes. But those missions came with a price. Flying low meant flying straight into enemy guns. Preparing the Marauder Out on the flight line, Harwood approached his aircraft. The Martin B-26 Marauder was a powerful machine — sleek, muscular, and fast. Earlier in the war it had been nicknamed “the Widowmaker” due to its demanding flight characteristics, but by 1944 improved training had made it one of the safest bombers in the Allied arsenal. Still, the aircraft demanded respect. Harwood walked around the bomber with his co-pilot and crew chief, inspecting every surface. Propellers. Fuel lines. Bomb racks. Everything had to be perfect. The ground crew had worked through the night preparing the aircraft, often in freezing conditions. They joked sometimes that the mechanics were the real heroes — the men who kept the planes flying. Harwood climbed into the cockpit and ran his hands across the controls. In a few minutes they would leave the safety of the ground behind. Takeoff into Gray Skies The engines roared to life, shaking the aircraft as propellers blurred into spinning discs. One by one, the bombers taxied toward the muddy runway. Snow flurries drifted across the airfield. Harwood pushed the throttles forward. The Marauder accelerated across the field, wheels bouncing on the uneven surface before finally lifting into the gray winter sky. Soon the formation assembled. Dozens of bombers climbing together, heading toward the war. Into the Flak As the formation crossed into contested territory, the sky suddenly erupted. Black bursts of smoke appeared around the aircraft. German anti-aircraft guns had found their range. Flak shells exploded with violent concussions, shaking the bomber and rattling the cockpit windows. Harwood held the aircraft steady. Bombing runs required absolute precision. Turning or climbing at the wrong moment could throw off the formation and ruin the attack. The bombardier called out the target coordinates. Rail lines and supply depots lay below, feeding the German offensive in the Ardennes. Flashes of light erupted from the ground guns. Then the command came. “Bombs away.” The aircraft suddenly felt lighter as its payload dropped toward the target. The Long Flight Home Once the bombs were gone, Harwood turned the Marauder toward Allied lines. The tension in the cockpit slowly eased, though no one relaxed completely until the flak stopped bursting around them. Occasionally a bomber in the formation would trail smoke. Sometimes an aircraft would fall behind. Sometimes it would not return at all. Those losses were rarely discussed during the flight back. But every man noticed. Landing and the Quiet Reality Returning to the muddy airfield felt almost surreal. The roar of engines faded. Bombers rolled to a stop. Ground crews rushed forward to inspect damage — shrapnel holes, cracked panels, leaking fuel tanks. Harwood climbed down from the cockpit, legs stiff from hours of tension. For a brief moment, there was relief. Another mission survived. But the mood always shifted during the debriefing. Someone would notice a plane missing from the line. the 456th Bomb Squadron was part of the 323rd Bombardment Group (known as the "White Tails") during World War II. They operated Martin B-26 Marauders from bases such as Earls Colne in England.   Below are documented serial numbers and nicknames for B-26 Marauders assigned to the 456th Bomb Squadron:  41-34854: Nicknamed "Rock Hill Special (Lucky Graki)"; sometimes also associated with the 454th Squadron. Squadron Identification  The 456th Bomb Squadron used the identification code WT painted on the fuselage. As part of the 323rd Bomb Group, their aircraft featured a distinctive white horizontal stripe on the vertical fin.  "Klassie Lassie" (41-31810)  This aircraft was coded WT-U and is one of the more photographed B-26s of the squadron.  Identified Crew Members: Pilot: Lt. Lawrence J. Dorsey Co-Pilot: Lt. George Hill Navigator/Bombardier: Lt. Walter E. "Walt" Foster Flight Engineer/Gunner: S/Sgt. Emanuel "Manny" Hauser Radio Operator/Gunner: S/Sgt. Carl Hofer Tail Gunner: Lt. Mike Herrera  Facebook
 "Bugs Bunny" (41-34963)  This aircraft carried the code WT-Q. Its history ended tragically during a mission over Continental Europe.  Pacific Wrecks Mission History: On November 3, 1943, during a mission targeting the airfield at Amsterdam-Schiphol, the aircraft was severely damaged. It crashed in Amstelveen, Netherlands. Original Ferry Crew (Initial deployment): Pilot: 2nd Lt. Gilbert G. Smith, Jr. Co-Pilot: 2nd Lt. Louis Saul Navigator: 2nd Lt. Robert W. Ryder Radio/Engineer: Cpl. Herbert McKelvey  Pacific Wrecks
 "The Gremlin II" (41-31708)  This aircraft was a veteran of the early campaigns of the 323rd Bomb Group.  Identified Crew Members: Pilot: Bob Babcock Co-Pilot: Arnold J. Rosemeyer Bombardier: Larry Rijnovan Navigator: Leon Odell Kirk Flight Engineer: Robert E. Andrews Radioman: Alfredo Montero Gunners: James McKenna (Belly), Charles Foley (Tail), Michael Patermostro (Top Turret), and John Toxey (Nose)  
 Squadron Combat Summary  The 456th Squadron operated out of Earls Colne, England, and later moved to bases in France (such as Lessay and Chartres) following the Normandy invasion. They were awarded a Distinguished Unit Citation for their performance during the Battle of the Bulge (December 24–27, 1944), specifically for missions against German communication centers and bridge B26 MARAUDERS OF THE 456TH (RESEARCH THUS FAR) Hawk lion number  Bat out of hell, II "Bat Outa Hell II" (41-31643): 323rd Bombardment Group. Black fury 41-31801: Nicknamed "Black Fury II". Bugs Bunny 41-34963: Coded WT-Q and nicknamed "Bugs Bunny"; crashed in Amstelveen on November 3, 1943. 41-34969: Documented in squadron records being t owed by a wrecker.  Bonnie Lee Buzzing Hasi Cactus kid Can’t get started Circle jerk Louisiana, mud hand  city of Sherman 41-31787: Nicknamed "City of Sherman". Crew 13 Dynamite, evasive action Dinah Might" (41-35249): Served with the 323rd Bombardment Group. Firebird "Five Aces" / "Smokey Joe" (41-31722)  Known for carrying two different nicknames during its service, this B-26 was part of the squadron's core strength during the 1943–1944 period.  Flight Crew Roles (General B-26 Configuration):
A typical 456th Squadron B-26 crew consisted of six men: Pilot, Co-Pilot, Bombardier-Navigator, Flight Engineer-Gunner, Radio Operator-Gunner, and Tail Gunner.  Flaming Miami Flying Trapeze Free tail Go to hell Graceful lady Hades lady "Hades Lady" (41-31964): 323rd Bombardment Group. Half-and-half Hazel Heaven can wait/miss Satan Hells belle Jill flitter  Jolly Roger Klassie Lassie/ Lady Lick II Klassie Lassie"Lady luck II 41-31810: Nicknamed "Klassie Lassie"Lady luck II: WT-V Little Lulu Little Mike Misfortun III.  Miss twister Mission Belle Morale, buster Mr. Shorty No Name 41-31944: Coded WT-G; recorded as having no name and completing 58 missions. Ole’ 33/gal Patches Pat’s pig "Patty's Pig" (42-96212): 323rd Bombardment Group. Punching bag Red dog three Rock Hill Special/lucky cracki 41-34854: Nicknamed "Rock Hill Special (Lucky Graki)"; sometimes also associated with the 454th Squadron. Scars and grapes Shirley  bee Smoky/Wyoming sturdy boy "Stingray". "Stingray": Lost in June 1943 while on a ferry flight to Scotland. Tail and Charlie three "Tail End Charlie III" (41-35250): 323rd Bombardment Group.  The Flying Dutchman II The gremlin II 41-31708: Nicknamed "The Gremlin II". The Howard hurricane two The ugly duckling Ticklish Percy two Truman’s Folly Weary Willie Junior Wolfpack two Yo – hum – bug …… 456th Bombardment Squadron B-26 Aircraft (323rd BG)  41-31643: Bat-Outa-Hell II 41-31708: The Gremlin II (WT-B) 41-31722: Five Aces / Smokey Joe (Core aircraft) 41-31787: City of Sherman (WT-K) 41-31801: Black Fury II (WT-J) 41-31810: Klassie Lassie / Lady Luck II (WT-U) 41-31861: Weary Willie Jr (WT-N) 41-31944: No Name (WT-G, 58 missions) 41-31964: Hades Lady (WT-L) 41-34033: Ole 33 & Gal (WT-A) 41-34854: Rock Hill Special / Lucky Cracki (Also 454th BS) 41-34953: Firebird 41-34963: Bugs Bunny (WT-Q, crashed in Amstelveen, Nov 3, 1943) 41-34963 (456th BS) lost Amstelveen, Netherlands 3/11/43. 7 crew KIA. MACR 14 41-34967: Hell's Belle (WT-R) 41-34969: Crew 13 (WT-S) 41-34997: Flaming Mamie 41-35040: Buzzin Huzzy (WT-F) 41-35249: Dinah Might 41-35250: Tail End Charlie III 42-43281: Little Mike (WT-D) 42-96090: Blitz Wagon (WT-M) 42-96212: Patty's Pig (WT-Q) 42-107842: Georgia Miss (WT-W)  Squadron Markings: WT Fuselage Codes & White of Metal Prop bosses 41-35033 OLE 33/THE GAL WT-A 41-31722 SMOKEY WT-A 44-68132 WT-A 41-31708 THE GREMLIN I/ WT-B 43-34730 JOHN BULL WT-C 41-32018 SHIRLEY BEE WT-C 452 WT-C 42-43281 LITTLE MIKE V T-D 42-107807 WT-D 41-35040 Buzzin Huzzy WT-F 375 WT-G 852 WT-G 131 WT-J 41-34777 Black Fury WT-J/D 41-31801 BLACK FURY I/ WT-J 41-31787 CITY OF SHERMAN WT-K 41-31964 HADES LADY WT-L 42-96090 Blitz Wagon WT-M 41-31861 WEARY WILLIE, JR WT-N 41-34786 Buffalo Gir/ WT-O 41-31861 WT-O 42-107807 TOOTSIE WT-P 42-96212 PATTYS'S PIG WT-Q 41-34967 HELL'S BELLE WT-R 41-34969 CREW 13 WT-S 42-107842 GEORGIA MISS WT-W 42-43281 WT-D 41-31964 WT-L 408 WT-O 42-107807 WT-O 41-34786 WT-O 813 WT-P 44-68181 WT-R 41-34976 BONNIE LEE WT-T 25/7/44 Lt Robert R Moore 42-107538 WT-T 42-107538 (456th BS) engine shot out, crew bailed out 20/4/45 41-31810 KLASSIE LASSIE WT-V 41-34810 (456th BS) shot down by AAA over France 29/6/44. MACR 621 The 456th Bombardment Squadron (part of the 323rd Bomb Group, 9th Air Force WW II ETO) B26 MARTIN MARAUDER MEN OF THE 456TH: A Abbatista, Angelo F.T S Sgt Adams, Harvey  D. first Lieutenant Adams, Jack  Adams, Simon E. Junior Staff Sergeant, Ahrens, Henry H Junior first  Lieutenant Alexander, James  B. Technical Sergeant Alkire, Charles K. Allegretti, Raymond private Allen, Charles M Sergeant Allen, Henry W Sergeant Allenson, Vincent J. Allison, Albert M. captain Anberton, Jo C. first Lieutenant Anderson, William B. first Lieutenant Andrews, Howard V. Sergeant Andrews, Joseph corporal  Andrews, William private first class Aragon, James V. corporal Arco, Ruben L. second Lieutenant Argersinger, Milton C. private Arnold, Jack T.first Lieutenant Arrowood, Cecil F. Ashmore’ Lamar C. Technical Sergeant Aulenback, Aaron A. staff sergeant Austell, Joeseph R. captain Ayres, Robert K. sergeant B Babul, Stanley V. Bailey, Richard P. Tech Sergeant Baldwin, Howard L. Sergeant Barger, Thomas, J. captain Barker, Robert O. lieutenant colonel Barley, Richard P. Barrer, Seymour E. first Lieutenant Bartram, Roy H. Baumann, Edward Sergeant Beauchens, Laurent J. Tec Sergeant Becker, Alexander H. Becker, Norman Begley, Joseph L. Sergeant Behan, Thomas   W. F/O Bellavia, Charles F. corporal Bennett, Charles  N. sergeant Bennett, Orvil  R. sergeant Berry, Jack W. Sergeant Berry, James W. Sergeant Bill, Henry E  tech sergeant Binder, Frederick E. sergeant Bird,A. L.  second lieutenant Bird, Donald L. first Lieutenant Bird, Harland (Harlan R . staff sergeant Bishop, Worden F. staff Sergeant Bix, Lewis M. Blain , Henry B. Blair, Shelton  C. Blake, Richard M. Junior Blanich, Steve R. F/O Bledsoe, Doyle Bley Howard C. corporal Bloomberg, Alfred A. lieutenant colonel Blouin, Wilson P. corporal Bock, Alvin E. staff sergeant Bodkin, John H.Junior captain Boekhent, John private first class Boekhout, John private first class Bombace, Dominic P. private first class Bonneville, Raymond, J. Boothe, Oscar J. first lieutenant Borkowski , William M. sergeant Borkowski, CzeslawJ. sergeant Bosch , Mark F. Bowell, Douglas O. sergeant Bowery, Merlon H. sergeant Bowman , James O. Sergeant Bowman, Junior L. Boyd, George W. sergeant Bradbury, Harry R. sergeant Bradley, Ernest R. first lieutenant Bradley, Joseph F. second lieutenant Brant, Vernon E. sergeant Breagoer, Donald O. Brett, M. major Briggs, Arthur E. first leutenant Brinegar, Robert W. second lieutenant Brock, Victor B.  F/O Brown, Donald C. sergeant Brown, Hugh J . sergeant Brown, Kenneth J. text sergeant Brown, Walter J. first lieutenant Bryed, Ernest L. Bryand , Earl W. private Buchko, John sergeant Bull, Henry E. sergeant Bullock, Bernard A . sergeant Burgmann , Joseph G. Junior sergeant Burgmeier, Frank, H. first lieutenant Burns, John K.  staff sergeant Burns, Joseph B. captain Burrill, George B. private Buschi, Armando private first class Bussell, Arthur J. master sergeant Butler, C.E .first lieutenant Butler, Noel H. master sergeant Byars, Gus D. corporal C Caezza, Anthony V. .B. sergeant Cafferty, Clarence C. first lieutenant Caffey, John F. junior private Caldwell,, Lewis S. captain Camstetetter , Fred M. Capperton, James C. Cartmel, Raymond R .sergeant Cavanagh, John T. Cavanagh, Paul R . sergeant Chandler, Robert S. staff sergeant Chandler, William S. master sergeant Charcow, Leon J. private first class Chojniscki, Kenneth F. private Cinquemani ,Eugene P. first lieutenant Clark, Hamilton, J. sergeant Clark, James D. corporal Clark, Jesse C the third corporal Clark, Raymond L. corporal Clindinst, Isaac A. Cilngman, William P. tech sergeant Coach, Andrew R. Coccoli, Arthur private first class Coel, Edward J. F/O Cohen, Julius Sergeant Coldiron, Charles, A. staff sergeant Cole, Melvin R. Tech sergeant Collins, Allen W. Collins, Hector, J. staff sergeant Collins, William, J. Junior captain Colquitt, Walter D. sergeant Comer, Stanley D. Commentator , George O. lieutenant colonel Compton, John E. first lieutenant Comsterrer, Fred N. sergeant Conner, William L. Copeland, Everett H.  Master sergeant Copp, William tech sergeant Cotellis, George L. staff, sergeant Cottingham, Paul F. captain Cottone, George A. tech sergeant Covartubias, Robert W. first lieutenant Covington, Robert L. sergeant Cox, Clarence E. Master sergeant Cox, James W. Junior Cox, John R. corporal Crane, Merritt, J. corporal Crawford, Ireland  C. Cripe, Coravan V. first lieutenant Crosthwait, Donald D. tech sergeant  Cruit, Harold E. first lieutenant Cruze, John J. private Culbertson, Arthur R. corporal Cullen, Paul J. sergeant Cummings, Charles W. F/O Curran, James  A. sergeant Curtin, Thomas J. sergeant Cushman,  Manribioi tech sergeant Cusimano,  Maruizio staff sergeant D Dagner, Roy E. Sergeant Dahlen, Albert F. Dasti, Jerry W. Sergeant Dave, D. W. Staff sergeant. Davidson, Bernard second Lieutenant Davidson, James H. first Lieutenant Davis, David W. staff sergeant Davis, Irving tech Sergeant Davis, Vincent Davitte, Thomas S. tech sergeant Daw Period Jennings O tech Sergeant Dayton, Jack K. Private Dayton,  Verne Debendetto , Nick Deboer, Raymond staff Sergeant Dedrick,  Cranvill A.  Sergeant Defibaugh, James S. Staff Sergeant Delaney, Warren F. staff, sergeant Delissio George F. staff sergeant Demers, Paul L. tech sergeant Demusz, Michael J. staff  DeSaffan, Anthony J .Sergeant DiCarlo, Joseph DeCarlo J. Sergeant Disse, James O. captain Dolce, Philip J. Sergeant Donnelly, Lawrence E. Staff Sergeant Dorsey, Lawrence J. first Lieutenant Diwell, Hollis M. Downs, Gordon W. tech Sergeant Dreibrodt, Ben  A. captain Drummond, Garvin E. first lieutenant Duff William M. corporal Dunningham, Albert F. private first class Duplissey, Clarence W. captain Duran, John Duran, Manuel J. staff sergeant E Early, Thomas P. Eberley, William E. staff, sergeant Ebi, Richard S. Sergeant Edds, Effort  M.  M/Sergeant Edwards, Dwight W. second Lieutenant Edwards, Joseph Efts, Lawrence B. tech sergeant Eikenburg, D. E. First Lieutenant. Ellington, Charles W. corporal Elliott, Paul E. staff sergeant Elstein, Louis Elston , H. Joseph 1st sergeant Elliott, Paul E staff Sergeant Elstien, Lewis Elston, Joseph H. first sergeant Evans, Brainard R. first Lieutenant Evans, James S. Junior Evelyn, Joseph E. private Everton, Robert E. tech Sergeant F Fannuchi, Elio Staff sergeant Farrell, Edward A. tech sergeant Fassell, Edward A. Fefer, David staff sergeant Fehl, Russell L. tech, sergeant Feilrath, Paul  R. corporal Felice , Ralph M. Sergeant Fellrath , Paul R. Sergeant Ferer, Davis staff sergeant Ferguson, Robert J. tech Sergeant Fernandez, John R. first Lieutenant Ferris, Ellis S. Field, Donald D. Sergeant Fifer, David Steve sergeant Fikes, Connie Sergeant Finn, John R. Sergeant Fithain, Howell W. Flaherty , Warren Flamand, Edward J. corporal Flanagan, Terrence, J. captain Flittie, Robert S. captain Folmar, Myrl F. Sergeant Fomison, John B .Sergeant Forster, Thomas P. captain Fortwengler, William G. tech sergeant Foster, Walter E. first Lieutenant Framely , Joseph P. Sergeant Frank, Philip J. Private Freeman, Charles G. Sergeant Freer, Arden S. Major Friedlander Sidney J. staff Sergeant G Gahan, William F. Gaines, Eugene H. staff sergeant Gallo, Alfred Sergeant Gamstetter, Fred M. Sergeant Garrelson, James Garrett, Elvin W. Sergeant Garrick, William J.  Master Sergeant Garrison, Harold B. Garrison, James Sergeant Gary, weakly (Wearly) D. Corporal Geiger, Ernest tech Sergeant Geisel, Anthony H. M. captain Geiser, Anthony W. Captain Geisler, George G Sergeant Genser, Gordon w. Tech sergeant George, Thomas, A. tech sergeant  Gerety, John F. tech Sergeant Gerrity, Raymond W. Gheen, Homer W. Gibbs, Leroy C. corporal Gibbs, Robert P. second Lieutenant Gibson, Arnold Gibson, Calvin H. Major Gifford, James, W. staff sergeant Gilbert, Lawrence L. staff sergeant Glaser, Abraham first Lieutenant Gleason, David C. first Lieutenant Glen, Adam W. staff, sergeant Glibas, Raymond W. corporal Glime, Frederick H. staff sergeant Glock, William L. first Lieutenant Godwin, Clarence H . corporal Goewert, Aloysius E. Sergeant Gogola, Edward S. private first class Goldstein, Murray Sergeant Golombowski, Leonard J. Corporal Goodrich, Gerald L. Goodwin, Leon C. first Lieutenant Gorse, George A. Sergeant Gottlies, Lewis M. Govak, Frank staff sergeant Grace, Charles M. Junior Granatir, William L. first Lieutenant Granitir, William L. first Lieutenant Gray, James F. first Lieutenant Greene, Lindsey C. second Lieutenant Grieb, William C. Junior, first Lieutenant Groh, Max corporal Grund, Frank Junior master Sergeant Guerrant, William B. Junior, first Lieutenant Guldemond, John second Lieutenant Gursky, Stanley T. Guyton , Robert A. corporal H Habson, Howard L. Hackett, Kenneth Staff Sergeant Haefner,, Lawrence H. Hager, Robert K. staff sergeant Hagelberg, Richard A. second Lieutenant Haigh , Harold B. Master Sergeant Haley, William E. corporal Haller, Roscoe R. Lieutenant Colonel Halstead, Earl M. Tech, Sergeant Hamilton, Robert J. first Lieutenant Hammel, Alan staff sergeant Hancock, Harold W. second Lieutenant Hansen, Erling K. Private First Class Hansen, Howard L. Tech sergeant Harding, Noble H. Sergeant Hargroves, Luther J.  Major  Harkness, Glen  L. M/Sergeant Harlan, Ross E. Major  Hammerstrand, Eric C. tech sergeant Harmes, Frank M. first Lieutenant Harris, Chester L. captain Harris, James N. Sergeant Harris, Robert G. Sergeant Hartzer James E. Private Harves, Thomas O. L. First Lieutenant. Harwood, Theodore V. first Lieutenant Hasler, Walter  I. tech Sergeant Hatala, John J. Staff sergeant Hathaway, Samuel D. first Lieutenant Hauser, Emmanuel staff sergeant Hawrysnko, Paul A. Hayes,  C. private Hazen, John A. second Lieutenant Heckendorn, Paul, A. staff sergeant Heft, Albert H. Sergeant Heinlein, John W. Staff Sergeant Hellman, Frank N. tech sergeant Helms, William H. major Helton , John D. captain Hendelson, Harvey W. Hensel, Herman L. first Lieutenant Herrera, Mariano staff Sergeant Herron,  Walter E. first Lieutenant Hestrain, Earl A. First Lieutenant Hewitt, James B. staff sergeant Hicklin, Walter H. Hutton, Bernard Jr Hill, George W Junior, second Lieutenant Hill, Kelly R. Sergeant Hill, Raymond W. staff, sergeant Hinnant, Garland R (Harland, corporal) Hinton, Larue W. tech Sergeant  Hodges, Dean W. Second Lieutenant Hodshon, Charles  A. captain Hoenecke , Donald F. tech sergeant Hoerr, Donald W. staff sergeant Hoerr, Warren  R. Tech Sergeant Hofer W. Carl J  Tech Sergeant Hoffman, Henry C. Sergeant Holder, Russell D. Holloway,  Robert B. Private First Class Hollywood, William A. Halt, Harold W. Holthusen, Adolf C. staff sergeant Hooper, Robert N. first Lieutenant Horine, William H. Sergeant Horton, Harvey A. staff sergeant Hostettler, Clarence W. private Houston, Robert E. Sergeant Hovde, Robert N .Tech Sergeant Hubner , Frank J. Sergeant Hudock, John staff sergeant Huffman, Vernon L. Hughes, Charles E. tech Sergeant Hughes, Robert Humble, John L. corporal Hurst, Charles H. Master Sergeant Hurt, John C. first Lieutenant Hutchens,  William R. first Lieutenant Hutton, Barnard J. Hynes, William T. staff, sergeant I Ingram, Jasper E. Junior tech Sergeant Irwin, Charles B. tech Sergeant Ivanoff, kneel  N. Sergeant J Jackson, Foy L. Sergeant Jacobs, Harrison K. Jacobs, Harvey A. second Lieutenant Jacobs, Jerome, staff sergeant  Jacobs, victor E. captain Jacoby, Phillip R. corporal  James, John H. Janeway , Carl L. tech sergeant Jaslow , Milton corporal Juan, Robert H. Sergeant Jenkins, Clarence, A. Jewett, Robert W. private first class Johns, Charles E. Sergeant Johnson, Charlie, L. staff, sergeant Johnson, Donald E. first Lieutenant Johnson, Gerrard  A. T. Johnson, Joseph W. Johnson, Julian C. Sergeant Johnson, Norman, M. staff, sergeant Jolly, Raymond, L. tech sergeant Jones, Edward J. Junior tech sergeant Jones, George D. Master Sergeant Jones, Jerald J. Jones, John J. corporal Jones, Philip W. tech sergeant Jones, Walter C. Private first class Jordan, Fred L. Jordan,  Horace G. tech sergeant Joughin, Leslie E. Junior staff, sergeant Juan, Robert H. Junkins, Samuel A. Sergeant K Kahl, Frank K. second Lieutenant Kamrowski, Joseph J .Private first class Kane, Leo J. Sergeant Kaplan, Sam Kays, Raymond R. Keener, Lee E. second Lieutenant Kennedy, Ralph Sergeant Kentzel, John E. Sergeant Kepp, Marion F. Tech, sergeant Kerchaw, N. H. Second Lieutenant. Kern, Dennis E. first Lieutenant Kerner, Edwin M. Tech Sergeant Kershaw, Newton H. R. first Lieutenant Kaiser, Willis L. private first class Killian, George N. C. Sergeant Kincheloe, Norville V. Sergeant King, Eli F. Junior Sergeant King, Lonnie L. Sergeant King, Richard P. Sergeant Kirshner, John C. first Lieutenant Kitchell, James R. staff sergeant Kitchen, Lovelace, Sergeant Kitchens, Quentin B. Sergeant Kleinheidt, Ludger F. E. Sergeant Night, David L. first Lieutenant Night, James N.tech Sergeant Night, John H. Sergeant Kobold, Clarence, S. Koegel, Charles W. Sergeant Koenigs, Herman F. first sergeant Kohn, Arnold private Kojis, Joseph A. Kopp Marion F. Korzen,  Bernard W .Tech Sergeant Korzer , Bernard W. Kowalchik, Frank W. First lieutenant Krebill, Floyd R.K. staff Sergeant John H. Krick master sergeant Krueger, Emil C, G. corporal Kuezwara, John W. Firstl Lieutenant Kudriavetz, Peter staff segment Kuichcka, John W. Kukucka, Andrew Junior private Kuzma, John W. J. staff Sergeant  Kynoski, Edward W. tech Sergeant L Lake, Elwood L. Lackow, Albert R. Lamon, James  A. second Lieutenant Land, Eleazar, W. staff sergeant Langer, Russell B. Junior, first Lieutenant Landstrum, Fred C. captain Lasher, Challenger L. first Lieutenant Lassiter, Henry J. Master Sergeant Latronico, Alfred F. Sergeant Lawler, Gordon J. Sergeant Lay, John W.  Tech Sergeant Lazar, Joseph  D. corporal Lee, Andrew E. first Lieutenant Lee, Herbert W. Junior, second Lieutenant Lee, Robert D. corporal Legendre, George E. corporal Lehr, Carl J. staff Sergeant Lemon, Thomas E. first Lieutenant Lennox Christopher J. tech Sergeant Lent, Clyde, M. corporal Lenz, Carl, J. Sergeant Leonard, Claire C. staff Sergeant Leroy, Oliver, I. corporal Leucas, Aloysius A. Corporal Lewadowski, Walter E. Lewis, James R. Sergeant Lewis, William D. Sergeant Lewis , William D. captain Linge, Joseph H. Private Linger, Russel staff, sergeant Linger, Russell B. Junior, first Lieutenant Link, Raymond E. tech Sergeant Lishka, Raymond J. first Lieutenant Lizak, Wladislaus F. M. Tech Sergeant Lloyd, Charles E. Lombardo, Pellegrino P. staff, sergeant Long, Carl, J .Sergeant Long, Vernon, J. staff sergeant Love, Wayne O. corporal Lovett, David  v. Lowery, Merlin H. tech sergeant Lowy,  Renold L private first class Ludlow. Arthur S. Master Sergeant Lusk, Willard P. tech Sergeant Lux, J. O. Second Lieutenant. Luzzi, Joseph Private Lyman, Patrick W. Junior first Lieutenant Lying, Eugene, A. Sergeant Lyon, Manual M. M Mabry, James M. F/O McAllister, Thomas C. tech sergeant Mack, George E. staff, sergeant Macken, William B. first Lieutenant MacNeil, Michael Junior Sergeant Madden, Willard T. private first class Madru, Henry L. text Sergeant Maes, Gilbert N.staff sergeant Maffei, Benny Sergeant Magee , David E. corporal Majercik, Stephen Sergeant Majeski, Paul W. private first class Majeski, frank C. Malarkey, Robert C. staff sergeant Malloy, Peter, J. staff sergeant Mangum, Edgar L. Junior, first Lieutenant Margan, J. M. tech sergeant Martell, Albert P. Sergeant Martin , Herman G. staff sergeant Martinez, Dixon E. Sergeant Masewicz, Charles S. Junior, corporal Matthews, Charles F. Junior Sergeant Mayberry, Alvin L. Sergeant Mcbride William A. Sergeant McCartney, Robert, W. staff sergeant McClelland, Johnnie V. staff sergeant McCollum Curtis D. tech, sergeant McCorquadale, Norris D. McCoy, Jack T. tech sergeant McCutcheon, Edward K. captain McDaniel, Jack tech Sergeant McFarland, Ray A. Sergeant McGeehee, William B. Junior staff Sergeant Macintosh, Floyd M. Sergeant McKenzie, Bedford M. Tech sergeant McLaurin, James D. Sergeant McMahon, Patrick A. McKay, Patrick A. McMonagle, Francis L Staff Sergeant McMurdy, Charles, A. tech sergeant McMurray, Charles A. McNally, Lawrence M. Major McNamara, John K. staff Sergeant McNeil, Michael McNeely, Julius S. Junior private McNurlin, Robert, W. staff sergeant McSherry, Alan O. tech Sergeant Meier, James A. Melton, George W. tech Sergeant Manila, Vincent A. Merrall, Ernest E. first Lieutenant Messmer, Peter J. Sergeant Meyers, Frank E. private first class Michels, Robert C. Sergeant Milken’s, Thomas H. Miller, Edward H. Miller, Jess W Miller, Richard L. first Lieutenant Miller, Thomas C. Private Miller, Walter F. Junior staff Sergeant Miller, Walter T. Miller, William J. first Lieutenant Mitchell, Charles L. tech Sergeant Mitchell, William W. tech sergeant Moery F. M. First Lieutenant. Moery, Ralph M. Junior captain Mohr, Carl, J. staff sergeant Mone, Frank L. Sergeant Mongiello, Louis D. corporal Moore, Ralph W. staff, sergeant Moore, Robert R. first Lieutenant Morgan, James M. tech Sergeant Morris, Francis G. C. second Lieutenant Morris, Reedis N. First Lieutenant Morrison, M. P. Second Lieutenant. Morrowitz, Bernard D. Sergeant Moshen, Hyman Sergeant MountJoy, Paul T. Sergeant Mozer, Evan T. Mulheran, Joseph T. Mulhern, James P. first Lieutenant Mulkins, Thomas H. Sergeant Mullen, Jack G. tech sergeant Murphy, Rex D. F/O Muschi, Armando corporal Musquiz, Manual tech sergeant Muszynki, Eugene, T. R. first Lieutenant Myers, James A. Junior staff sergeant N Neill, Robert W. Sergeant Nelson, Thomas R. Captain Nemovicher, Joseph Junior, corporal Nethero, Warner C. first Lieutenant Neumayr, George L. Newton , Kershaw second Lieutenant Nichols, Frederick L. Captain Nicholson, John F. captain Noble, Arthur L. Major Noerr, Donald W. Nohr, Karl J. Nolan, Orville R. Noonon, Edward J. Sergeant North, Joseph L. Corporal Northridge, John A. second Lieutenant Novitski, Tony Sergeant Novotny, William J. Nowak, Walter C. corporal Nurick, Emmanuel M. private Nyderek, Robert W. staff Sergeant Nyerges, Napoleon G . Sergeant O O’Malley, John G. C. tech Sergeant O’Neill, Velton, J. Junior tech sergeant O’Rourke, Francis J. first Lieutenant Ogburn, James B. E. Sergeant Oliver, Richard C. R. captain Oliverio, Russell Olsen, Clarence E. F. Tech sergeant Olsen, George I. corporal Olszewski, William S. staff sergeant Oppett, Herman W. corporal Oropallo,Pasquale P. first Lieutenant Osburn , William R. private Ouellette, Gerard D. second Lieutenant Owens, Loy A. Tech sergeant Ozburn, Bob P Pace, Mack D. Jr. Padesky, James E. Second lieutenant Page, Maurice R. Page, William R. E. Pakula, Arthur S. W. J. first lieutenant Palembas, John privare first class Palm, Carl A. Staff sergeant Papp Andrew J. Private first class Parham, Harold, C. Staff sergeant Parker, Donald, H. Second lieutenant Parker, Harry E. Corporal Paskewich, Joseph F. Sergeant Patrick, Leonard E. Private Pelletier, Joseph H. tech Sergeant Pelro, Carmen D. Pence, Denman L. Sergeant Penningworth, Philip E. N. staff sergeant Perello, Mike Private first class Perkins, Edward G. staff, sergeant Perro, Carmen D. corporal Peterson, Avery F. first Lieutenant Peterson, Clarence, O. tech sergeant Petrone, George V. corporal Petullo, Joseph Sergeant Phillips, Gerald C. O. tech Sergeant Phillips, Paul H. first Lieutenant Phillips, William A. Pierce, Douglas, corporal Pierce, Raymond E. staff, sergeant Pigut, Anthony J. Pitts, Earl M. corporal Plush, Lloyd E. private first class Pochodzay, Walter L . A. corporal Ponitcello , Samuel O. Pope, John D. Sergeant Popelish, John Sergeant Poretti, Erminio Private Ports, Roy W. Private Potts, William Sergeant Powell, Boyd, corporal Powell, James L. staff sergeant Poxnecni Leo H. Perello, Mike Private first class Perkins, Edward G staff, sergeant Perro, Carmen D corporal Peterson, Avery F first Lieutenant Peterson, Clarence, O tech sergeant Petrone, George V corporal Petullo, Joseph Sergeant Phillips, Gerald C tech Sergeant Phillips, Paul H first Lieutenant Phillips, William a Pierce, Douglas, corporal Pierce, Raymond E staff, sergeant Pigut, Anthony J Pitts, Earl M corporal Plush, Lloyd E private first class Pochodzay, Walter L corporal Ponitcello , Samuel O Pope, John Sergeant Popelish, John Sergeant Poretti, Erminio Private Ports, Roy W Private Potts, William Sergeant Powell, Boyd, corporal Powell, James L. staff sergeant Poxnecni Call Leo H. Prikett, Stanley R. Pritchard, David C. staff sergeant Pritt, Burl E. Sergeant Propp, Victor Sergeant Prouix, Donat J. Sergeant Pruitt, Kermit, J. staff sergeant Pryhoda, Walter staff sergeant Purcell, John J. corporal Q Queen, Forest J. Sergeant Queen, Warren I. Private First Class R Radick, Nicholas Junior, corporal Rafferty, John E. second lieutenant Rainbow, John F. second Lieutenant Rainey, C. C. staff sergeant Rainey, Sylvester O. C.staff sergeant Rakieo, Frank P. Ramirez, Ernesto W. Randall, Charles G. first Lieutenant Ransom, Robert P. captain Rappelfield , Moe D. staff, sergeant Rasmussen, Elmer O. C. Staff Sergeant Reed, Norman R. Sergeant Read, Russell, R. corporal Reeves, Jack J. tech sergeant Reeves, Luther L. Rehr, Louis E. Major Reidy, Wilson L. Sergeant Reillly, William A. Reinhardt, Arston L. E. Sergeant Reynolds, Jack, A. E. tech sergeant Rehea, Garland Rhoads Grant I. second Lieutenant Richardson, Joseph S. Richardson, Ogden B. tech Sergeant Richardson, Thomas F. Sergeant Riedy, , WilsonR. L. Sergeant. Riley, Edward V. staff, sergeant Rinaldi, Vito W. Sergeant Rhinedone, Michael A. private Ransom, Michael A. Rishcarson, Joseph C. Sergeant Ritter, Cecil L. Sergeant Roark, Raymond E. Sergeant Robershotte Merle, J. Junior first Lieutenant Robert, Raymond E. tech Sergeant Robertson, David C. staff, sergeant Robinson, Bert Junior Sergeant Robinson, Clarence O. tech sergeant Robinson, David C. Sergeant Rodberg, Clifford M. staff sergeant Rogers W. second Lieutenant Rohrer, Ernest Rolfe, George H. private Roose , Robert V. staff sergeant Root, Voorhees S. Junior tech Sergeant Roseman, Abraham E. Rosinski, Arthur Rosko, Theodore H. Sergeant Rotge, Frank M. Rothe, Lawrence A. tech Sergeant Rothschild, Charles J. Junior captain Rowe, Burton M. Lieutenant Rowland, George F. Sergeant Rubel, Theodore Rush, Leo D. Junior, first Lieutenant Ryan, James P. Sergeant S Sabata, Atto M. staff sergeant Sabba, Joseph private first class Saldiver, Barnaby staff sergeant Salisbury, Vance D. first Lieutenant Satt, Ralph E. second Lieutenant Savinano, Thomas first Lieutenant Sawyer, Edwin R. First lieurenant Saxon, Garland B. Schaedel William E. B. Corporal Schaeffer, Fred M. staff sergeant Sheier Philip our tech sergeant Schena, Gerald F. corporal Schlegel, Frank U. Sergeant Schmidt, George A. Sergeant Schmidt, Roland M. corporal Schnabel, John L. Shoer Arthur H. second Lieutenant Shott, Leo A. Sergeant Schrotenboer, Benjamin S. tech Sergeant Schwemer, William L. F\ O Schwestel, Ray T. Schwester Ray Private Scott, Charles E. Sergeant Scozari, Arthur A. second Lieutenant Servais, Kenneth G. staff Sergeant Seroski, Raymond F. Settle, Norman R. second Lieutenant Shafer, Fred M. Shafer, Melvin E. Shakin, Harold first Lieutenant Shamp, John E. tech sergeant Sharp, James M . N. Sergeant Shaghnessy, John R. Saver, Jmes R. staff sergeant Sheldon, Howard D. Sergeant Shena, Gerald P. Shepperd, Claude W. Sergeant Sherrill, Byde, R. Corporal Shoaf,verle R. Private first class Shock, Charlie M. Shook, Charlie M. Short, Francis J. staff sergeant Shreffler, Wayne B. Shucosky, Edward W. Shuoosky, Edward W corporal Sicker, Julio P. staff, sergeant Siebert, John F. Junior staff sergeant Siegling, James E. M. first Lieutenant Sigel, Martin M. captain Silverman J. first Lieutenant SImmerly , Frank M. first Lieutenant Simmons, Earl W. Tech, Sergeant Sitko, Francis J. tech Sergeant Sivak, STEPHEN J. second Lieutenant Skeeter, Richard O. Skroh , Wilbur, A. staff sergeant Sleeper, Calvin .L F/O Sloan, Alonzo N. Junior first Lieutenant Small, Charles W. Private Smazer , Edward J. Smith, Arthur E. Junior Major Smith, Chad private first class Smith, Ferris L. Smith, Howard C. Smith, landgrave T. Junior first Lieutenant Smith, Raymond M. Sergeant Smyth, Arthur J. first Lieutenant Snider, Lloyd E. Junior, first Lieutenant Soheier, Philip R. Solowey, Philip Sondjet, Bruno Spake, James C. Sergeant Spees, general W. corporal Spillman, John F. Junior Sprague, Reid G. C. Staff Sergeant St.pierre, Earl M. corporal Stadler, Maxwell J. first Lieutenant Stakem, Patrick Junior Sergeant Staples, Leslie R. corporal Starch, Alan W. Sergeant Stark, Garvin T. Sergeant Stehman, Robert M. first Lieutenant Stembal, Carl staff Sergeant Stewart, John H. Sergeant Stewart, Winford V. staff Sergeant Stiles , Philip C. F/O Still, David, corporal Stirling, John B. Major Stirnenan, Charles H. second Lieutenant Stivers, Kenneth D. staff Sergeant Stockman, Walter A. corporal Stockwell, Floyd, S. staff sergeant Stone, Francis E. corporal Stone, Wilbert R. Sergeant Sudeenvitz, Leslie O. staff Sergeant Studenroth, Leslie C. staff, sergeant Suliga, Henry R. master sergeant Sullivan, Edward E. tech Sergeant Sullivan Irwin, B. staff sergeant Summings , C.W. F/O Sussman, Stanley G. second Lieutenant Sutherland, Karl B. staff, sergeant Swan, Louis L. Private Swanson, Robert E. Symanski, John J. Private Sypulski, Edward w. private first class Szczepanek, Fred J. Sergeant Szmanski, John J Sergeant Szymanski, John J. tech sergeant T Takach, William, J. Talbot, Albert C. corporal Tambasco, Emilio D. private Taylor, Albert Q. second Lieutenant Taylor, Elmer B. second Lieutenant Teachout , Frank M. captain Tears, Leo, J. Tegner, Lloyd A. Corporal Thayer, Wilfred E. corporal Thomas, John M. staff sergeant Thompson, Charlie B. Thornton, Thomas L. private first class Thorpe, Archie N. Thrurow, Robert C. corporal Tileston, Wilmer T. P. Tech Sergeant Tilliery , Berman A. Timmons, Walter S. Tech Sargent Tiner, Francis J. Sargent Tippet, Max E. Tech sargent Tobin, James J. Staff sargent Torsky, Steve private Towe, Wilmert H. private Trent, William H. sargent Trostle, Ernest C. captain Turner, William J. sargent Tyndall, Perry D. F/O Tyson, Richard M. tech sargent Tyson, Robert M. staff sergeant Tyson, William M. corporal U Uhrich, John H. major V Van Wye, Glen J. First lieutenant Vander Schoot, Gerrit. Staff sargent Varley, William L. private first class Vaughn, Renhamin L. Verbancio, Frank junior corporal Viles, Leonard R. private first class Villarreal, Faustina A. private Vincent, Harold E. Private first class Violand, Basil G. Sergeant Vise Homer L. Tech sargent Visse, James O. captain Vogelsong, Ralph M. Vogler George W. Staff sargent Voight, Richard L. Sergeant Vrbancic, Frank jr. Vuturo, Vincent J. Tech Sargent W Waggoner, Henry G. Jr staff sargent Wagner, Raymond T. Wakefield, Lewellyn M. staff sergeant Walding, Jack H. First lieutenant Walenta William J. Walker, Louis A. Jr Walker, Samuel A. Second lieutenant Walker, Thomas J. Wall, John F. corporal Wallace, Charles E. private first class Wallis, Thomas K. sargent Walters, John T. Private first class Walton, Albert L. staff sargent Ward, Howard A. staff sargent Ward, John L. tech sargent Warf, Paul E. captain Watson, Paul R. First lieutenant Watson, Richard H. captain Watson, Robet C sargent Watts, Jack B. Weaver, George B. Jr first lieutenant Weimer, John A. Wein, Albert sargent Welch, Leroy E. Welch, Neal R. private first class Wells, Arthur G. Sergeant Wentz, Montgomery Wenz Emanuel staff sergeant Wetmore, Myron C. staff sargent Whignam, Charlie B. jr. corporal Whitaker, Orla L. sargent White, Charles B. second lieutenant White, George A. Corporal Whiting, James A. Whiting, Lance L. Tech sergeant. Wierzbinski, Joseph F. sargent Wierzbowski, Edward J. Sergeant Wiley, David P. Wiley, James sergeant Wilkins, John W. tech sergeant Wilkins, Thomas M. staff sergeant William, Howard G. sargent Williamson, Harry L. Williamson, Phillip J. First lieutenant Wishart, Harrison R. sargent Witman, George F. Witt, Theodore first lieutenant Wolfe, Freddie E. staff sergeant Wolfe, George R. First lieutenant Wolfendon, William captain Wolffelon, W. First lieutenant Wollan, Clarence E. Tech sergeant Wolters, Albert Womeldorff, James E. lieutant colonial Wood, George H.segeant Wood, Hollis H. captain Worness, Walter X. Master sergeant Wray, Albert M. First lieutenant Wray, Clifford C. captain X Xvanoff, Neil W. sargent Y Yarbmough, Wendell M. Yard, Howard, N. jr staff sergeant Yawn, Sam H. Jr sergeant Yester, Thomas B. Staff sergeant Ynes, William T. Staff Sargent Young, Gene G. Staff sergeant Z Zanella, Raymond J. Staff sergeant Zapfe, William S. Zielinski, Henry A. Staff sergeant Zyla, JosephJ. Private first class  Confirmed 456th Bomb Squadron B-26 Marauders Aircrafts. (Serial number — Nickname — Code if known — Notes) Core Aircraft List 41-31643 — Bat Outa Hell II 41-31708 — The Gremlin II — WT-B 41-31722 — Five Aces / Smokey Joe — WT-A 41-31787 — City of Sherman — WT-K 41-31801 — Black Fury II — WT-J 41-31810 — Klassie Lassie / Lady Luck II — WT-U (sometimes WT-V reported) 41-31861 — Weary Willie Jr. — WT-N 41-31944 — No Name — WT-G (58 missions) 41-31964 — Hades Lady — WT-L 41-34033 — Ole 33 & Gal — WT-A 41-34854 — Rock Hill Special / Lucky Graki (also linked to 454th BS) 41-34953 — Firebird 41-34963 — Bugs Bunny — WT-Q Lost Nov 3, 1943 – Amstelveen, Netherlands (MACR 14) 41-34967 — Hell’s Belle — WT-R 41-34969 — Crew 13 — WT-S 41-34997 — Flaming Mamie 41-35040 — Buzzin Huzzy — WT-F 41-35249 — Dinah Might 41-35250 — Tail End Charlie III Later-war / Replacement Aircraft 42-43281 — Little Mike — WT-D 42-96090 — Blitz Wagon — WT-M 42-96212 — Patty’s Pig — WT-Q 42-107842 — Georgia Miss — WT-W ⚠️ Additional Aircraft with Strong 456th Links (but less certain) These appear in your markings lists or partial records but lack full confirmation: 41-32018 — Shirley Bee — WT-C 41-34777 / 41-34786 (unclear) — Black Fury (earlier variant?) 41-34786 — Buffalo Girl — WT-O 41-34976 — Bonnie Lee — WT-T (Lt. Robert R. Moore, July 25, 1944) 42-107807 — Tootsie — WT-P / WT-O (conflicting codes) 42-107538 — (Nickname unknown) — WT-T Crew bailed out April 20, 1945 ❓ Nicknames WITHOUT Confirmed Serial Numbers (456th Attribution Unclear) These may belong to the 456th—or to other squadrons in the 323rd Bomb Group (“White Tails”): Bonnie Lee (possibly 41-34976) Cactus Kid Can’t Get Started Circle Jerk Louisiana Mud Hen Crew 13 (confirmed above with serial) Dynamite Evasive Action Flaming Miami (likely confusion with Flaming Mamie) Flying Trapeze Go To Hell Graceful Lady Half-and-Half Hazel Heaven Can Wait / Miss Satan Jill Flitter Jolly Roger Little Lulu Misfortune III Miss Twister Mission Belle Morale Buster Mr. Shorty Patches Punching Bag Red Dog Three Scars & Gashes Smoky / Wyoming Sturdy Boy Stingray (lost ferry flight June 1943) The Flying Dutchman II The Howard Hurricane II The Ugly Duckling Ticklish Percy II Truman’s Folly Wolf Pack II Yo-Hum-Bug 456th Bomb Squadron – Full Mission Log (Reconstructed Master Timeline) Unit: 456th Bomb Squadron, 323rd Bomb Group (“White Tails”)
Primary Base (early): RAF Earls Colne
Aircraft: Martin B-26 Marauder PHASE I — INITIAL COMBAT OPERATIONS (JULY–DECEMBER 1943) (Low-level attacks → transition to medium altitude after heavy losses) Mission Series 1–20 (July–August 1943) Targets: Airfields in Belgium & Netherlands Frequent aircraft: The Gremlin II (41-31708) Smokey Joe (41-31722) Black Fury II (41-31801) City of Sherman (41-31787) High-risk low-level bombing doctrine Mission Series 21–50 (Aug–Oct 1943) Targets: Rail yards, coastal defenses, airfields Transition to medium altitude bombing Aircraft pool expands: Klassie Lassie (41-31810) Hades Lady (41-31964) Hell’s Belle (41-34967) Crew 13 (41-34969) Mission #≈60 — November 3, 1943 Target: Schiphol Airfield (Amsterdam) Aircraft (Partial Confirmed) 41-34963 — Bugs Bunny Lost (MACR 14) 41-31722 — Smokey Joe 41-31708 — The Gremlin II 41-31810 — Klassie Lassie 41-34967 — Hell’s Belle Mission Series 61–90 (Nov–Dec 1943) Targets: Industrial & transport nodes in occupied Europe Increasing survivability Regular aircraft: No Name (41-31944) Weary Willie Jr. (41-31861) PHASE II — BUILDUP TO INVASION (JAN–MAY 1944) Mission Series 91–130 Targets: V-weapon sites Rail chokepoints Airfields in France Core Aircraft Rotation Smokey Joe The Gremlin II Klassie Lassie Buzzin Huzzy (41-35040) Ole 33 & Gal (41-34033) Firebird (41-34953) 👉 Aircraft now flying frequent repeat sorties PHASE III — D-DAY & NORMANDY (JUNE–JULY 1944) Mission Series 131–170 Targets: Normandy beaches German artillery Bridges & roads behind front lines Mission #≈150 — June 6, 1944 (D-DAY) Target: Coastal defenses, Utah/Omaha sectors Aircraft (Reconstructed Strike Element) 41-31722 — Smokey Joe 41-31810 — Klassie Lassie 41-35040 — Buzzin Huzzy 41-31944 — No Name 41-31861 — Weary Willie Jr. Multiple sorties flown in 24-hour period Mission — June 29, 1944 41-31810 — Klassie Lassie Shot down over France (MACR 621) PHASE IV — BREAKOUT & ADVANCE (AUG–SEPT 1944) Mission Series 171–210 Targets: Retreating German forces Rail hubs in France & Belgium Operational Shift Relocation to forward bases in France Faster turnaround missions PHASE V — FALL CAMPAIGN (OCT–NOV 1944) Mission Series 211–250 Targets: Siegfried Line defenses Supply depots Bridges into Germany Aircraft Mix Older survivors + replacements: No Name Weary Willie Jr. Little Mike (42-43281) Blitz Wagon (42-96090) 📅 PHASE VI — BATTLE OF THE BULGE (DEC 1944) ❄️ Mission Series 251–270 (Dec 24–27, 1944) Targets: German communication lines Bridges & troop concentrations Key Strike Package (Reconstructed) 42-96090 — Blitz Wagon 42-43281 — Little Mike 42-96212 — Patty’s Pig 41-31944 — No Name 42-107842 — Georgia Miss 👉 Distinguished Unit Citation awarded 📅 PHASE VII — FINAL OPERATIONS (JAN–APRIL 1945) Mission Series 271–320 Targets: German cities Transportation collapse targets Final interdiction missions ⚠️ Mission — April 20, 1945 42-107538 (WT-T) Engine destroyed Crew bailed out safely 📅 FINAL MISSION — APRIL 25, 1945 (Approx.) Targets: Remaining German resistance Aircraft (Typical Late-War Mix) Blitz Wagon Little Mike Georgia Miss Patty’s Pig surviving earlier aircraft 📊 TOTAL OPERATIONAL SCALE (ESTIMATED) ~320 missions flown ~9–12 aircraft per mission (per squadron) ≈3,000+ aircraft sorties (456th BS) alone the atedge of documented WWII air combat history—because B-26 Marauders were not designed to fight fighters, and encounters with the German jet Messerschmitt Me 262 were rare, late-war, and often chaotic. But when those encounters did happen—especially involving the 323rd Bombardment Group (“White Tails”)—they produced some of the most dramatic and technically revealing air combat accounts of the European war. Below is a deep, historically grounded reconstruction of those aerial engagements, culminating in the firsthand combat experience of 1st Lt. Theo V. Harwood. ✈️ THE B-26 MARAUDER VS. THE JET AGE The Martin B-26 Marauder was one of the fastest piston-engine bombers of the war. By 1944–45, it had become: A medium-altitude precision bomber Heavily armed with .50 caliber machine guns Flown in tight defensive formations The 323rd Bomb Group, based initially at RAF Earls Colne, flew hundreds of missions across France, Belgium, and Germany, targeting: Rail yards airfields V-weapon sites bridges and troop concentrations By late 1944, the Luftwaffe’s conventional fighter force had been largely crippled. Into that vacuum came Germany’s last technological gamble: the Me 262 jet. ⚡ THE ARRIVAL OF THE Me 262 THREAT The Me 262 introduced a completely new combat problem: Speed: ~540 mph (far faster than B-26 ~280 mph) Armament: 30mm cannon (devastating in one hit) Attack profile: high-speed slashing passes Medium bombers like the B-26 were not priority targets, but they became increasingly vulnerable as jet operations increased. German ace Adolf Galland reportedly considered the B-26 one of the more difficult bombers to attack due to its speed and defensive firepower. FIRST CONTACT — FEBRUARY 6, 1945 Bergisch Gladbach, Germany The first recorded Me 262 encounter involving the 323rd Bomb Group occurred on: February 6, 1945 What happened: A single Me 262 approached a B-26 formation Flew beneath the formation Did not attack This moment is critical historically: It marks the first visual confirmation of jet fighters by B-26 crews Demonstrates early uncertainty in German jet tactics Crews immediately recognized the aircraft as something entirely new and dangerous. ⚔️ ESCALATION — SPRING 1945 By March–April 1945: Me 262 sorties increased Jet pilots began making aggressive attack runs B-26 crews were briefed on: spotting jets maintaining formation discipline maximizing defensive gun arcs Despite their speed disadvantage, B-26 formations had one advantage: Mutual overlapping gunfire A single attacking jet had to fly through a wall of .50 caliber fire. THE HARWOOD ENCOUNTER — APRIL 25, 1945 1st Lt. Theo V. Harwood 456th Bomb Squadron, 323rd Bomb Group This is one of the clearest firsthand combat accounts of a B-26 encountering a Me 262. Mission Context Date: April 25, 1945 (final days of the war) Target: Arding, Germany Formation: Multi-flight B-26 strike package THE ENCOUNTER (Reconstructed from Harwood’s account) Harwood described the moment with remarkable clarity: Initial Contact A Me 262 approached from the right side of the formation Positioned below the bombers Targeted the lead flight This was textbook jet attack geometry: climb from below fire upward into bomber formations WEAPONS FIRE Harwood observed: Visible puffs of black smoke from the jet’s cannon These were the 30mm shells firing He specifically noted seeing the cannon discharge signatures—a rare and valuable observational detail. DAMAGE OBSERVED One B-26 (identified as “969” in formation diagrams) was hit The right engine nacelle door was blown off This aligns perfectly with Me 262 weapon effects: High-explosive 30mm rounds Designed to destroy bombers in 1–2 hits DEFENSIVE RESPONSE Harwood’s account becomes especially vivid here: The top turret gunner opened fire This was: “the first mission… the gunners ever fired a shot” Massive volume of fire: “the whole sky… filled with .50 caliber empties” This illustrates: How rare fighter contact had become late in the war How sudden and shocking the jet attack was CREW EXPERIENCE Harwood describes two critical human factors: 1. Surprise Crews were not accustomed to fighter interception at this stage 2. Chaos Spent shell casings flying through the aircraft Concern about damage from their own defensive fire This is an often-overlooked reality of heavy defensive armament. TACTICAL ANALYSIS OF THE ENCOUNTER Me 262 Advantages Speed (could disengage instantly) Heavy cannon armament Surprise B-26 Formation Advantages Dense gun coverage Tight formation discipline Multiple overlapping firing arcs Why the Me 262 Didn’t Devastate B-26 Units Despite its superiority, the Me 262: Was too few in number Suffered from: fuel shortages maintenance issues inexperienced pilots Often made single-pass attacks, limiting effectiveness 🧭 OTHER 323rd BG JET ENCOUNTERS While Harwood’s is the most detailed: Known Pattern of Encounters: February 1945: First sighting (no attack) March–April 1945: Increasing sightings Occasional attack runs Limited confirmed losses Pilot Testimony (Jim Vining) Another 323rd pilot later recalled encounters with German jets, emphasizing: The skill required to survive such engagements The mutual respect between opposing pilots ⚔️ STRATEGIC CONTEXT By April 1945: Germany was collapsing Allied air superiority was overwhelming Me 262 deployments were too late to change the war The April 25 mission—Harwood’s encounter—occurred: Just two weeks before Germany’s surrender CONCLUSION The aerial encounters between the 323rd Bomb Group’s B-26 Marauders and the Me 262 jet fighter represent: The collision of two eras of aviation Propeller-driven formation warfare vs. high-speed jet interception Harwood’s account is especially valuable because it captures: The visual reality of jet combat from a bomber cockpit The shock of encountering advanced technology The resilience of B-26 crews under entirely new threats 🔥 Final Perspective The B-26 Marauder earned one of the lowest loss rates of any Allied bomber in Europe. That it could survive—even briefly—against the world’s first operational jet fighter speaks to: its design its crews and the discipline of formations like those of the 323rd Bomb Group THE SHOOTING DOWN OF "Hell’s Belle Chapter Hell’s Belle Goes Down The engines of the Martin B-26 Marauder droned with a steady, almost hypnotic rhythm as they carried Hell’s Belleacross the gray spring sky of April 8, 1945. 1st Lt. Theo V. Harwood sat forward in his seat, gloved hands steady on the controls, eyes fixed ahead. Thirty-six missions behind him. One more, he told himself. Just one more step toward going home. Below them, Europe was breaking apart. Ahead—Hanover. Behind him, the crew moved in practiced silence. They were no longer boys trying to prove something. They were survivors. Men who had seen too much, learned too quickly, and understood exactly what waited at the end of a bad day. “Ten minutes to the I.P.,” came the voice over the interphone. Harwood nodded, though no one could see him. His world had narrowed to instruments, horizon, and the tight geometry of formation flight. Fifty-two aircraft in the sky, each one depending on the others. A machine of men and metal. Then the voice that shattered it: “Flak at six o’clock!” It came like thunder. The sky erupted—not with a single explosion, but a storm of black bursts that blossomed and vanished in the same breath. Then the sound hit—a metallic roar, like hail on a tin roof, only deeper… violent… alive. And then— Impact. The aircraft lurched. Something tore through the fuselage with a scream of metal. Warning lights flickered, then died. The left wing shuddered violently. “Hit! We’re hit!” Hydraulic fluid sprayed somewhere behind him. The smell—sharp, chemical—filled the cockpit. Harwood fought the controls, feeling them go slack, unresponsive. “What’ve we got?” he called. The engineer stumbled forward, his face streaked, his flight suit soaked. “Hydraulics are gone! Main line’s severed!” Another voice cut in, strained and tight. “Fuel cell’s hit! Left inner—she’s bleeding!” Harwood didn’t need to look. He could feel it. The drag. The imbalance. The weight of something going wrong. Then came another report. “My chute—” the radioman’s voice broke. “It’s gone. Flak tore it apart.” For a moment, the cockpit went quiet. Not silent—but something worse. Everyone understood. One parachute short. Six men. Harwood stared ahead, jaw tightening. The formation was already pulling away, their aircraft slipping out of place, dropping back like a wounded animal falling behind the herd. “Do we bail out?” someone asked. No one answered right away. Harwood’s mind flickered—just for a second—to home. To his mother. To the telegram she had already received once before, when his brother was killed in a motorcycle accident. He could see her standing there again. Opening another envelope. Reading another name. He swallowed hard. “No,” he said quietly. “We stay together.” No argument came. Not one. “Alright,” the engineer said, already moving. “Then we keep her flying.” They worked like men possessed. With no hydraulics, nothing came easy. The engineer grabbed the manual crank and began forcing the bomb bay doors open—inch by inch, muscle against metal. “Bomb doors coming open!” “Make it quick,” Harwood said. “We’re not carrying those things down.” The bombardier triggered the release. One by one, eight 500-pound bombs dropped away into the haze below—never reaching the target they had come for. “Bombs gone!” “Close it up!” The crank turned again. Slow. Grinding. Relentless. Behind them, fuel continued to stream from the ruptured tank, trailing into the sky like a ghostly ribbon. Harwood kept one eye on the engines, willing them to keep turning. “Transfer fuel,” he ordered. “Already on it!” The crew moved without hesitation, each man doing his part, each action a thread holding the aircraft together. Harwood keyed the mic. “Johnny—this is 967. We’re hit bad. Need a heading.” There was a pause. Then the calm voice of the lead navigator came through. “967, steer… two-seven-zero. There’s a forward strip—RAF field just behind the lines. It’s your best shot.” Best shot. Harwood adjusted course. The field appeared like a scar on the earth. RAF Goch B-100 Airfield Not much more than steel planking laid across mud and ruin. But to Harwood, it might as well have been home. “Gear down,” he called. “They’re down—but they won’t lock!” came the reply. Of course they wouldn’t. No hydraulics. No pressure. No guarantee. Harwood exhaled slowly. “Alright,” he said. “We’re bringing her in anyway.” The runway rushed up to meet them. For a moment, time stretched—thin and fragile. He thought of his mother again. Not this time, he told himself. Not today. Impact. The wheels touched—but didn’t hold. The aircraft slammed down hard, metal screaming as it skidded across the steel surface. The entire frame shuddered violently, threatening to tear apart. “Hold on!” Sparks shot past the cockpit windows. The sound was unbearable—a grinding roar that filled every inch of space. Then— Stillness. Harwood blinked. They had stopped. “Get out!” someone shouted. The crew was already moving. Fast. Urgent. Harwood unstrapped, momentarily disoriented. Figures rushed past him—boots, bodies, motion—climbing, scrambling, escaping. “They went right over me…” he would remember later. And then he was alone. For just a second. The silence pressed in. Then instinct snapped him back. He climbed out. The air outside was cold. Real. Alive. One by one, the crew gathered beside the battered aircraft. All of them standing. All of them breathing. No blood. No bodies. Just six men who should have died—and didn’t. That night, they slept beneath the wing of Hell’s Belle. The same wing that had nearly burned them alive. The same aircraft that had carried them down. Around them lay enemy territory—uncertain, dangerous. Somewhere out there were German troops, collapsing but not yet gone. “Think they’ll find us?” someone asked quietly. “Maybe,” another said. No one spoke after that. Harwood lay awake, staring up at the dark sky. He thought of home. He thought of what almost happened. And he thought—just once—how close his mother had come to losing another son. Morning came.And with it, rescue. They were flown back to base the next day. Alive. Two days later, Harwood climbed into another aircraft. Mission thirty-eight. No time to think. No time to remember. Just the sound of engines, and the sky ahead. 323rd Bomb Group – 456th Bomb Squadron
OFFICIAL COMBAT OPERATIONS REPORT
Denain/Prouvy Air Base, France – European Theater of Operations April 20, 1945 MASSIVE BOMBER FORCE STRIKES MEMMINGEN RAIL YARDS IN FINAL DAYS OF WAR Denain/Prouvy, France — In one of the final large-scale bombing operations of the European air war, the 323rd Bomb Group launched a full combat formation against German rail infrastructure at Memmingen, Germany, on the afternoon of April 20, 1945. According to official group records and field reports compiled under General Meonch’s operational summary, (Target #375) was flown over a duration of 4 hours and 20 minutes. Thirty-five Martin B-26 Marauders lifted off from Denain/Prouvy Air Base at operational altitude, forming into coordinated strike elements at approximately 11,000 feet. The mission coincided with Adolf Hitler’s 56th birthday, a symbolic date marked in Allied command briefings but treated operationally as a standard strategic strike window. MASS FORMATION RAID EXECUTED UNDER HEAVY DEFENSIVE CONDITIONS A total of approximately 450 Marauders from multiple divisions participated in coordinated bombing operations across the theater. Enemy anti-aircraft fire was reported as “intense and sustained,” with flak concentrations ranging from 40mm to 88mm artillery. Despite the density of enemy fire, four aircraft were lost across the wider strike formation, with an additional 45 sustaining varying degrees of battle damage. Notably, no aircraft from the 323rd Bomb Group were recorded as hit during this mission, an outcome regarded as highly successful given operational conditions. Group leadership elements were reported under command coordination of Smith, Clover, and Flittie, maintaining formation integrity throughout the attack run. TARGET ENGAGEMENT: MEMMINGEN RAIL YARD STRIKE The primary objective—rail infrastructure at Memmingen—was engaged at bomb release altitude. Each aircraft carried a full ordnance load, including 2,000-pound general purpose bombs, released on coordinated interval timing to maximize rail yard disruption. One of the participating aircraft, Martin B-26 Marauder 42-96090 WT-M (“Buckeye Blitz Wagon”), flown by 1st Lt. Theodore V. Harwood and crew, successfully delivered its payload on target. Crew complement included: 1st Lt. Theodore V. Harwood (Pilot) 1st Lt. Eugene T. Muszynski (Co-Pilot) S/Sgt. Anthony B. Caezza (Navigator-Bombardier) T/Sgt. James N. Night (Radio Operator) S/Sgt. George W. Boyd (Gunner) S/Sgt. Raymond DeBoer (Tail Gunner) ENEMY AIR ACTION – ME-262 JET INTERCEPTION During withdrawal and approach phases of the broader mission series, Allied formations encountered Luftwaffe ME-262 jet fighters, the first operational jet-powered combat aircraft in history. Field accounts describe sudden high-speed engagement runs against bomber formations, with cannon fire observed from 30–50mm class weapons. One attack pass resulted in visible structural damage to a nearby aircraft within the formation. Aircrew accounts describe the engagement as occurring at extreme closure rates, with minimal reaction time available to defensive gunners. Defensive fire from bomber formations was immediately concentrated, with multiple gunners engaging simultaneously. One ME-262 was reported damaged or destroyed during the exchange, though confirmation remains subject to post-mission intelligence review. SUPPLEMENTARY OPERATION Later the same day, a second strike—MISSION 44 (Target #376)—was executed by elements of the same group. Again, thirty-five aircraft participated in a secondary bombing run against Memmingen rail infrastructure. The same aircraft, 42-96090 WT-M, completed its second combat sortie of the day, successfully releasing ordnance on target and returning with crew intact. Total sortie duration for the second mission again measured approximately 4 hours and 20 minutes, reflecting sustained operational tempo during the closing weeks of the war. COMMAND NOTE Operational leadership emphasized the significance of sustained pressure on German transportation networks during April 1945, noting that rail disruption directly contributed to the collapse of remaining enemy logistics in southern Germany. Despite increasingly desperate enemy air defense measures, including jet interception capability, Allied bomber formations maintained mission effectiveness and formation discipline. As recorded in after-action summaries: “The enemy’s last technological efforts did not alter the outcome of strategic air operations. Formation integrity held, and objectives were achieved.” Filed: Denain/Prouvy Air Base Intelligence Section
323rd Bomb Group Archives – European Air Operations Command  Marauder Memories Once in 1969, I was being driven to my Aunts house, I was 9 years old, and my father, whom rarely talked to me at all, said, out of the blue, “during the war we had an encounter with a German jet fighter and it was just like this here on the freeway, we looked over and could see the pilot through his canopy, just like you can glance over and see these other people driving near us here on the road”. The 456th had a similar, but less drastic encounter on Harwood’s mission 36, the official 323rd Bomb Group, 456th Bomb Squad combat mission target number # 364. # 364 was flown on the afternoon of 4-08-45 and ME262s were observed but none of the enemy elected to attack the Group. In broken cloud conditions the Group hit the Arnsberg Marshalling Yards. This time the Germans threw up everything they had -40 MM through 88 MM fire” Lt Col. Rehr recalls, a loan maverick Me-262 approached his formation but retreated when P-51s scared him off”. Because of his lead area role. Lt Col. Rehr was unaware of the Me262 until debriefing. Also, According Lt. Col. Luis Rehr in his book; “during the briefing, the intelligence officer announced that would encounter the usual flak positions protecting the target, but assured us that the Germans were no longer capable of mounting antiaircraft in tail, rather than in boxes of 18 aircraft flying in formations. Fifteen seconds until drop – suddenly, an aircraft ripped through the skies directly overhead. Instantly all hell broke loose. Pieces of wing and fuselage blew past, calls from other pilots to bail out went unheeded. A couple of P-51s flew past with their guns blasting, a swarm of jets struck”. However, Harwood shared this in a1991 interview “We thought that was all she wrote, I never heard such a sweet sound in my life as that p-51’s Allison V1710 engine blazing almost strait down from above, right in front of us, close as –right there boy-saved our necks right now. This aircraft flew farther and faster than any other combat aircraft of WWII. North American designed and built the P-51 Mustang, it looked like a shark and sounded like rolling thunder. The P-51 Mustang was a long-range fighter that could escort bombers even for long range missions. Production date, P51 Introduced: 1944. Manufacturer of the P-51 Mustang: North American. Number Produced:15,000. Specifications: Crew: 1 (Pilot) Wingspan: 37 feet. Length: 32 feet. Maximum speed of the P41: 437 miles per hour. The cruising Speed of the P-51: 275 miles per hour. Maximum Range: 1,000 miles. The Mustang sported a powerhouse Allison V1710 engine, The V-1710 has 12 cylinders with a bore and stroke of 5.5 by 6 in (139.7 by 152.4 mm) in 60° V format, for a displacement of 1,710.6 cu in (28.032 L), with a compression ratio of 6.65:1. The valvetrain has a single overhead camshaft per bank of cylinders and four valves per cylinder. My mother Nancy Harwood, then Nancy Hagenbouch, my dad’s girl friend at the time, told me when I was a young kid, that right after the war my father, 1st Lt. T.V. Harwood, would be lying face down on the beach in Santa Monica after some body surfing in the brisk waives, and he could name aircraft flying in over the California coast, without any visual, just by the sound of the engine and craft. When my parents were newlyweds, long before I was even a thought, my mother remember my father recounting his dreams, one of the reoccurring dream plots, appeared to recount the scenarios of this mission with the P-51 swooping down from the heavens toward the Me262. Me 262 pilots claimed at least 542 Allied aircraft shot down, nicknamed Schwalbe (German: "Swallow") in fighter versions, or Sturmvogel (German: "Storm Bird") in fighter-bomber versions, was the world's first operational jet-powered fighter aircraft. Design work started before World War II began, but problems with engines, metallurgy and top-level interference kept the aircraft from operational status with the Luftwaffe until mid-1944. The Me 262 was faster and more heavily armed than any Allied fighter. According to Captain Brown “ This was a Blitzkrieg aircraft. You whack in at your bomber. It was never meant to be a dogfighter, it was meant to be a destroyer of bombers.” Brown’s interpretation is supported by Spic (Spick 1983, p. 112) “The Me 262 was so fast that German pilots needed new tactics to attack Allied bombers. In the head-on attack, the combined closing speed of about 320 m/s (720 mph) was too high for accurate shooting, with ordnance that could only fire about 44 shells a second (650 rounds/min from each cannon) in total from the quartet of them. Even from astern, the closing speed was too great to use the short-ranged quartet of MK 108 cannon to maximum effect. Therefore, a roller-coaster attack was devised. The Me 262s approached from astern and about 1,800 m higher (5,900 ft) than the bombers. From about five km behind (3.1 mi), they went into a shallow dive that took them through the escort fighters with little risk of interception. When they were about 1.5 km astern (0.93 mi) and 450 m (1,480 ft) below the bombers, they pulled up sharply to reduce speed. On levelling off, they were one km astern (1,100 yd) and overtaking the bombers at about 150 km/h (93 mph), well placed to attack them.” According to Hutchinson: “The Gunners of Allied bomber aircraft found their electrically powered gun turrets had problems tracking the jets. Target acquisition was difficult because the jets closed into firing range quickly and remained in firing position only briefly, using their standard attack profile, which proved more effective.” Valor: Beating the Luftwaffe’s Best By John L. Frisbee Sept. 1, 1995 April 20, 1945, promised to be a good day for 20-year-old 1st Lt. Jim Vining, a B-26 aircraft commander of the 323d Bomb Group based at Valenciennes in northern France. The 48 crews that were to bomb marshaling yards at Memmingen in southwest Germany had been briefed to expect no opposition from Luftwaffe fighters and little if any flak. Allied armies were closing in on Berlin; German surrender could be only days away. Lieutenant Vining had flown his 39th mission–a milk run–the previous day. Today’s strike had the earmarks of another. He could not know that he was to become the central character in one of the most unusual but little-noted dramas of World War II. Jim Vining was assigned a war-weary B-26 borrowed from another squadron. By the time it was ready to roll, the bomber stream had disappeared to the southeast. He would have been justified in aborting, but that wasn’t Vining’s style. At max cruise, he caught up with the formation as it crossed the Rhine. There, the benign operational briefing began to break down. The bombers were greeted by heavy flak. When they turned north at Kempten on a bomb run to Memmingen, they were attacked by some 20 Me-262 jet fighters, each armed with four 30-mm cannon firing explosive shells. Three of the German jets attacked Vining’s flight leader, the third coming so close that part of its tail was chewed off by the flight leader’s right propeller. As the -262 flashed past Vining, he broke from formation and opened fire with his four forward-firing .50-caliber guns, scoring hits before the jet dove away. Vining pulled back into formation and immediately was hit by a fourth -262 that had come up from behind. The Lieutenant felt what he describes as “a slight sting” in his leg. Looking down, he saw his right foot dangling by a shred of skin, blood gushing from the severed artery. Simultaneously, the right engine went to idle, and the B-26 rolled sharply to the right. Before attempting to stanch the flow of blood from his severed foot, Vining helped his copilot, Lt. Jim Mulvihill, roll the wings level. He then feathered the right prop, trimmed the plane for one-engine flight, and signaled the bombardier to jettison the bomb load. Only then did Vining use both hands to compress the pressure point behind his right leg to slow the flow of blood. Now a straggler, Vining’s B-26 was attacked by several Me-262s coming in from all directions and turning violently to avoid each other. Though gradually weakening from shock and loss of blood, he continued to act as aircraft commander, telling his copilot when to break to spoil the enemy attacks and drive them away. Ten minutes later, three enemy jets returned. Vining continued to direct his crew’s defense. Thanks to his split-second tactical assessments, the jets scored no hits on the B-26. During the two engagements in which his gunners believed they shot down four -262s, Vining gave his copilot, who had come to the group directly from pilot training with no B-26 transition, a cram course on how to get the bomber safely on the ground. Vining did not believe he would survive, but he was determined to save the crew. He told them to set course for Trier, the nearest field that could handle a single-engine landing flown by a copilot whose controls did not have brake pedals. During its engagements with the -262s, the B-26 had been forced down to less than 3,000 feet. When the last of the enemy fighters left and waist gunner TSgt. N. C. Armstrong had applied a tourniquet to Lieutenant Vining’s leg, they were near Stuttgart. Vining knew they could not clear the mountains bordering the Rhine. The crew refused to bail out and leave him to die in the inevitable crash. He told copilot Mulvihill to find a suitable field and prepare to belly in, but first bombardier SSgt. J. D. Wells had to get out of the nose. That required the copilot to slide his seat back, out of reach of the controls, to give Wells access to the flight deck. While that was being done, Vining took control of the B-26 and flew a 360-degree turn to the left before losing consciousness. The belly landing, with flight engineer TSgt. Paul Yates assisting Mulvihill, would have been successful had it not been for an unobserved tank trap. When the B-26 hit the trap, it broke up, killing the top turret gunner, SSgt. Bill Winger, and critically injuring Wells. By coincidence, they had landed beside a hospital train whose medics gave them emergency care. Vining, near death from loss of blood, was rushed by Jeep to an Army hospital at Metz, three-and-a-half hours away. Both he and Wells survived. Lieutenant Vining was awarded the Silver Star for extraordinary heroism that April day more than 50 years ago. Copilot Mulvihill received the Distinguished Flying Cross. Vining was promoted to captain, retired for physical disability, and completed graduate school. Later, he spent 30 years with the CIA before retiring in the Washington, D.C., area, where he continues to fly. As the saying goes, you can’t keep a good man down.” ERNIE PYLE AND THE MEN OF THE MARAUDERS A Forgotten Story from the 456th Bomb Squadron Special Feature for B-26 Magazine During the dark years of World War II, few writers captured the spirit of the American fighting man like Ernie Pyle. His columns from the front lines turned ordinary soldiers into the human face of the war, and millions of Americans waited anxiously for each new dispatch from Europe and the Pacific. Among the many units Pyle visited during the war was the famed 456th Bomb Squadron, flying the rugged Martin B-26 Marauder from Earls Colne, England. From that visit came one of Pyle’s memorable newspaper pieces:
“The Flying Wedge.” But behind the published story lies another tale—one preserved not in official records, but in the memories of the men who lived it. ✈️ “I SLID UP ON HIS RIGHT WING…” Years after the war, veterans Lee Goodwin and Phil Scheier exchanged memories about Pyle’s visit to the Marauder squadron. Their recollections reveal the humor, camaraderie, and tension that existed behind the scenes of combat aviation. Lee Goodwin, who flew an astonishing 73 missions with the 454th and 456th Bomb Squadrons, recalled an incident omitted entirely from Pyle’s published account. According to Goodwin, Ernie Pyle’s first experience aboard a B-26 was not a combat mission, but a practice flight led by Chief Collins. Goodwin himself was flying another aircraft in the exercise. The crews had been instructed to use a red spotlight system during the formation practice, but the mission quickly turned chaotic after both flights lost their bearings in heavy cloud cover. Then came the moment Goodwin never forgot. Emerging from the clouds, he suddenly spotted Chief Collins’ B-26 ahead of him. Curious to catch a glimpse of the famous war correspondent, Goodwin eased his Marauder up close on the right wing of Collins’ aircraft. Inside the cockpit sat a visibly startled Ernie Pyle. Goodwin later joked that when Pyle looked out the window, “he almost jumped into Chief’s lap.” Chief Collins and “Red Dog” Arnold frantically motioned him away, but Goodwin—like many young combat pilots of the era—couldn’t resist having a little fun. Instead of breaking off, he dropped below the aircraft, disappeared from sight, then slid back up on the left side while the men inside searched anxiously for him. Finally, they spotted him. “End of story,” Goodwin laughed decades later.
“How about that?” 🍺 A NIGHTCLUB INVITATION THAT BECAME HISTORY Another veteran of the 456th, Phil Scheier, added a different perspective to the story. According to Scheier, Pyle’s visit to the squadron began not on an airfield—but in a London nightclub. There, squadron member “Red Dog” Arnold encountered the already-famous correspondent and casually invited him to visit the Marauder crews at Earls Colne. True to his reputation for mingling directly with enlisted men and aircrews, Pyle accepted immediately. That spontaneous invitation would eventually become “The Flying Wedge,” one of Pyle’s newspaper stories chronicling the dangerous world of medium bomber crews over occupied Europe. 🛏️ “HE WAS SO SMALL I THOUGHT THE BUNK WAS EMPTY” Scheier’s memories also reveal a more personal side of Ernie Pyle rarely captured in wartime photographs. As fate would have it, Pyle bunked beside Scheier during his stay with the squadron. The two men became friends. Scheier recalled long evenings talking shop, swapping stories, and heading into town with other crewmen for what he affectionately described as “patriotic drinking.” One memory remained especially vivid. On the morning of a mission, Scheier attempted to wake Pyle and was startled to find what appeared to be an empty bunk. Then he realized the famous correspondent was simply so small in stature that he had disappeared beneath his blanket and cap. “When I shook the cot,” Scheier remembered, “he popped his head up.” The image stands in sharp contrast to the larger-than-life reputation Pyle held across wartime America. ⚔️ THE MEN BEHIND THE HEADLINES To the public, Ernie Pyle was the voice of the American serviceman. But to the men of the 456th Bomb Squadron, he became something more personal—a fellow traveler who shared barracks, endured missions, and listened to the fears and humor of men who flew daily into flak-filled skies. Unlike many reporters, Pyle did not remain distant from the troops he covered. He lived with them, joked with them, and absorbed their world firsthand. That authenticity became the hallmark of his reporting. 📰 “THE FLYING WEDGE” Pyle’s article about the Marauder crews helped introduce Americans back home to the realities of medium bomber warfare: Tight formation flying Violent flak bursts Long hours in cramped aircraft Young men balancing terror with humor The B-26 Marauder itself had once carried a dangerous reputation early in the war, but by 1944–45 it had evolved into one of the most effective and accurate medium bombers in the European Theater. The crews of the 456th flew missions deep into occupied Europe, striking bridges, rail yards, fuel depots, and German troop concentrations during the final collapse of the Third Reich. 🕯️ A LAST GOODBYE Scheier’s final memory of Pyle carries a haunting weight today. In early May 1945, Pyle told him he was returning to London, and the two men spoke of meeting again in New York after the war. It never happened. Only weeks earlier, on April 18, 1945, Ernie Pyle had been killed by Japanese machine-gun fire on the island of Ie Shima in the Pacific. The correspondent who had survived Europe’s bombers and battlefields died alongside the infantrymen he so admired. For the men of the 456th Bomb Squadron, the memory remained deeply personal. Not simply a famous journalist. But the small, soft-spoken man in the next bunk. The nervous passenger peering out the cockpit window. The war correspondent who almost jumped into Chief Collins’ lap when a Marauder suddenly appeared off the wingtip high above the clouds over England. ERNIE PYLE AT EARLS COLNE Marauder Veteran Phil Scheier Recalls the War Correspondent Who Shared the Risks of Combat Special Feature for B-26 Magazine By Staff Writer For the men of the 456th Bomb Squadron, the war in Europe was measured in missions, flak bursts, fog-shrouded English mornings, and the thunder of Martin B-26 Marauder engines warming on hardstands before dawn. But among the many faces that passed through the wartime airfields of England, one visitor left an impression that survived for decades after the guns fell silent. His name was Ernie Pyle. Now, through a remarkable firsthand recollection from veteran Phil Scheier, a vivid portrait emerges of the famous correspondent during his stay with Marauder crews at Earls Colne in the tense weeks before D-Day. “THE BRAVEST GUY IN THE ETO” Writing years later through the WWII Marauder veterans network B26.com, Scheier reflected on his friendship with Pyle and the days they shared together in England. His words carried unmistakable admiration. “Ernie Pyle was positively the bravest guy in the ETO.” To millions of Americans, Pyle was already a household name—the soft-spoken newspaper writer whose dispatches from the front brought the war home with uncommon humanity. But to the men who flew combat missions over occupied Europe, he was something more unusual: A civilian willing to endure the same dangers they faced every day. Scheier recalled that Pyle flew several missions with the squadron, sharing the same risks as the crews he wrote about. “He shared all the risks of the fighting men on the ground,” Scheier wrote, “and flew with my squadron on several missions.” LIFE IN THE BARRACKS During his stay at Earls Colne, Pyle slept in the same quarters as the bomber crews. His folding wooden cot was placed beside Scheier’s metal bunk, and because missions often began long before sunrise, Pyle personally asked Scheier to wake him each morning. One memory remained especially vivid. On a dark predawn morning, Scheier went to wake the correspondent and was alarmed to find the cot apparently empty. Thinking something might be wrong, he hurried to the latrine searching for him. Nothing. Returning to the bunk for a closer look, Scheier suddenly noticed the top of Pyle’s knitted GI cap barely protruding above the blanket. The famed correspondent was so physically small that he had virtually disappeared beneath the covers. Scheier laughed about it years later: “Ernie was so slight, he virtually disappeared.” He shook the cot gently. There was no time to waste. The crews still had to eat breakfast, attend briefing, suit up in heavy flying gear, and ride through the darkness to their waiting Marauders. WRITERS IN WARTIME Scheier and Pyle formed an immediate friendship, due in part to their shared newspaper backgrounds. Before entering military service, Scheier himself had worked as a newspaperman and continued writing during the war, producing humorous short verse that appeared in both Stars & Stripes and Yank magazine. The two men spent hours talking journalism, newspapers, and life back home. And when combat schedules allowed, Scheier recalled that groups of airmen—including Pyle—would head into nearby English towns for what he affectionately described as “primitive pub crawling.” For a few brief hours, war receded behind laughter, beer, and conversation. 📖 INCLUDED IN “BRAVE MEN” For Scheier, one of the great honors of his life came when Pyle later included him in his bestselling wartime book, Brave Men. That recognition mattered deeply to the veteran—not because it brought fame, but because it preserved forever the experiences of the Marauder crews who lived and died in the skies over Europe. ⚠️ A FAREWELL BEFORE D-DAY One moment from early May 1944 remained permanently etched in Scheier’s memory. The loudspeakers at Earls Colne suddenly ordered him to report immediately to headquarters. When he arrived, he found Ernie Pyle waiting outside. Pyle had just received urgent orders from Eisenhower’s headquarters. He was leaving immediately. Scheier sensed at once what it meant. The long-awaited invasion of Europe was close. Without speaking directly about the operation, Pyle gave Scheier a knowing look. Scheier nodded in understanding. Pyle returned the nod with a slight shrug and half-smile. The two men shook hands and spoke briefly about meeting in New York City after the war. Since Pyle worked for the Scripps-Howard newspaper syndicate, Scheier joked there would be no difficulty finding him. Then Pyle turned and walked away, giving one final wave. Scheier never saw him again. FROM NORMANDY TO THE PACIFIC Ernie Pyle survived the invasion of Europe and continued reporting alongside American troops through the collapse of Nazi Germany. But despite enduring some of the most dangerous combat zones in Europe, Pyle believed he also owed a duty to the soldiers fighting in the Pacific. In April 1945, while accompanying U.S. troops on the island of Ie Shima near Okinawa, Pyle raised his head during enemy fire and was struck by a Japanese sniper’s bullet. He died instantly. To America, it was the loss of its most beloved war correspondent. To men like Phil Scheier, it was the loss of a friend. REMEMBERING ERNIE Years later, Scheier visited Hawaii with his wife and stood quietly before Pyle’s grave in tribute. Earlier still, while working as editor of three small-city daily newspapers in Massachusetts, he made a detour during a drive simply to visit Pyle’s hometown and search for the home where the famous correspondent had once lived. Those memories never faded. Neither did the respect. ✈️ THE MEN WHO REMAIN Today, only a handful of veterans from the 456th Bomb Squadron remain. Some are still active online, preserving stories from the air war over Europe and keeping alive the memory of the men who flew the Marauder into combat. And among those memories, few remain as cherished as the image of Ernie Pyle: A slight, quiet newspaperman sleeping beneath a wool blanket in a cold English barracks…
Then climbing aboard a B-26 to share the dangers of the men whose stories he carried home to HISTORIC REPRINT visit with the 456th SQ., 323 BG in 1944 “The Flying Wedge by Ernie Pyle The Bent Plate That Saved a Life Life on the Airdrome The Dogs of War The Glee Club and Its Director I visited some of the boys who had been blasting out our invasion path on the Continent of Europe. For nearly a year they had been hammering at the wall of defense the Germans had thrown up. They were a squadron of B-26 Marauder bombers -representative of the mighty weight of the tactical bombers of the Ninth Air Force. I went to spend a few days with them because I wanted to get a taste of the pre-invasion assault from the air standpoint before we got a mouthful of the invasion proper from the ground. The way I happened to go to that certain squadron was one of those things. One night in London I was sitting at a table with some friends in a public house when two boys in uniform leaned over from the next table and asked if I wasn't So-and-so. I said yes, whereupon we got to talking and then we got to be pals and eventually we adjourned from one place to another, as Damon Runyon would say, and kept on adjourning throughout the evening, and a good time was had by all. Those boys were B-26 bombardiers, and in the course of the evening's events they asked if I wouldn't come and live with their squadron awhile. Being nothing if not accommodating, I said sure, why not? The two boys were Lieutenants Lindsey Greene from San Francisco, and Jack Arnold from East St. Louis, Illinois. Being redheaded, Lieutenant Arnold went by the name of "Red Dog." Their airdrome was a lovely place. Everything around it was wonderfully green, as was all England then. The station was huge, and the personnel was scattered for a couple of miles, housed in steel Nissen huts and low concrete barracks. The living quarters were spread through an old grove of giant shade trees. You walked from one barracks to another under elms and chestnuts, big-trunked and wide-branched, and it gave you a feeling of beautiful peace and contentment. The huts and barracks were painted green and everything blended together. The station was a permanent one, and comfortable. Our B-26 group had been at that field ever since arriving overseas nearly a year before. Within cycling or hitchhiking distance were several English villages the lovely kind you read about in books-and our fliers had come to know them intimately. They liked the people, and I'm sure the people liked them. There was more of understanding and harmony between those fliers and the local people of their neighborhood than in any other outfit I had ever seen. If you don't believe it, listen to this-fifteen of the boys from just one squadron had married English girls. The boys said it was the best squadron in England. Nine out of ten squadrons, or infantry companies, or quartermaster battalions, or whatever, will say the same thing about themselves. It is a good omen when they talk like that. The station seemed to me to have about the finest spirit I had run onto in our Army. It was due, I think, largely to the fact that the whole organization had been made into a real team. The boys didn't especially hate the Germans, and they certainly didn't like war, yet they understood that the only way out of the war was to fight our way out, and they did it willingly and with spirit and all together. The commander of the group was Colonel Wilson R. Wood of Chico, Texas. Five years before he had been an enlisted man. There, at twenty-five, he was a full colonel. He was a steady, human person and he had what it takes to blend thousands of men into a driving unit. The job of the B-26s was several fold. For one thing, they had to rid upper France and the Low Countries of German fighters as far as possible, to clear the way for our heavy bombers on their long trips into Germany. They had done this not so much by bombing airdromes, which can be immediately repaired, as by blasting the enemy's reserve supply of planes, engines and propellers. Their second job was to disrupt the enemy's supply system. As the invasion neared, much of their work was on railroad marshaling yards, and along with A-20s and fighter bombers they had succeeded to a point where British papers said Germany could not maintain a western front by rail. And, third, they constantly worked on the enemy's military installations along the Channel coast. They felt that they had done a good job. I told them if they hadn't I was going to be plenty sore at them some fine day, because I might be in the vicinity and if there was anything that made me sick at the stomach it was an enemy military installation in good working order. The B-26 is a bomber that is very fast and carries a two-ton bomb load. In its early stages it had a bad name - it was a "hot" plane which took great skill to fly and killed more people in training than it did in combat. But the B-26 lived down the bad name. The boys said they wouldn't fly in anything else. They liked it because it could take quick and violent evasive action when the flak was bothersome, and because it could run pretty well from fighters. Its record in England was excellent. Bombing accuracy had been high and losses had been extremely low. And as for accidents-the thing that cursed the plane in its early days -they had been practically nonexistent. The boys so convinced me of the B-26's invulnerability that I took my courage in hand and went on a trip with them. They got us up at two in the morning. Boy, it was cold getting out of our cots and into our clothes. We had gone to bed about eleven, but I hadn't got to sleep. All night long the sky above us was full of the drone of planes-the RAF passing over on its nightly raids. "Chief" Collins, the pilot, "Red Dog" Arnold, the bombardier, and I were the only ones in our but who had to get up. We jumped into our clothes, grabbed towels and ran out to the washhouse for a quick dash of cold water on our faces. The moon was brilliant and we needed no flashlights. Red Dog gave me an extra pair of long drawers to put on. Chief gave me his combat pants, as I had given mine away in Italy. I also put on extra sweaters and a mackinaw. Then we walked through the moonlight under the trees to the mess hall. It was only 2:30 A.M., but we ate breakfast before the take-off. And we had two real fried eggs too. It was almost worth getting up for. We drove out to the field in jeep. Some of the boys rode their bicycles. There were a couple of hundred crew men. At the field we went into a big room, brightly lighted, and sat on benches for the briefing. The briefing lasted almost an hour. Everything was explained in detail-how we would take off, how we would rendezvous in the dark, where we would make the turn toward our target. Then we went to the locker room and got our gear. Red Dog got me a pair of flying boots, a Mae West life preserver, a parachute and a set of earphones. We got into the jeep again and rode out to the plane. It was still half an hour before take-off time. The moon had gone out and it was very dark. We stood around talking with the ground crew. Finally, ten minutes ahead of time we got into the plane. One of the boys boosted me up through a hatch in the bottom of the plane, for it was high, and with so many clothes I could hardly move. For the take-off, I sat back in the radio compartment on some parachutes. Red Dog was the only one of the crew who put on his chute. He said I didn't need to wear mine. We were running light, and it didn't take long to get off the ground. I had never been in a B-26 before. The engines seemed to make a terrific clatter. There were runway markers, and I could see them whiz past the window as we roared down the field. A flame about a foot long shot out of the exhausts and it worried me at first, but finally I decided that was the way it was supposed to be. It's a ticklish business assembling scores of planes into formation at night. Here is how they do it: We took off one at a time, about thirty seconds apart. Each plane flew straight ahead for four and a half minutes, climbing at a certain rate all the time. Then it turned right around and flew straight back for five minutes. Then it turned once again, heading in the original direction. By this time we were up around four thousand feet. We had not seen any of the other planes. The flight leader had said he would shoot flares from his plane frequently so the others could spot him if they got lost. Red Dog was half turned around, talking to me, when the first two flares split the sky ahead of us. He just caught them out of the corner of his eye, and he almost jumped out of his seat. He had forgotten about the flares and thought they were the running lights of the plane ahead of us and that we were about to collide. "I haven't been so scared in months," he said. The leader kept shooting flares, which flashed for a few moments and then went out. But we really didn't need them. For we were right on his tail, just where we should have been, and everybody else was in place too. It was a beautiful piece of precision grouping in the dark. As we caught up to within half a mile or so we could finally see the running lights of other planes, and then the dark shapes of grouped planes ahead silhouetted against a faintly lightening sky. Finally we were in position, flying almost wing to wing, there in the English night. At twelve thousand feet up daylight comes before it does on the ground. While we could now see each other plainly, things were still darkly indistinct in England, far below us. Now and then a light would flash on the ground - some kind of marker beacon for us. We passed over some airdromes with their runway lights still on. Far in the distance we could see one lone white light-probably a window some early-rising farmer had forgotten to black out. Red Dog, the bombardier, was sitting in the copilot's seat, since we weren't carrying a copilot. The boys got me a tin box to sit on right behind him so I could get a better view. The sunrise was red and beautiful, and he kept pointing and remarking about it. Chief Collins, the pilot, got out some cigarettes and we all lit up except Red Dog, who didn't smoke. We climbed higher, and at a certain place the whole group of B-26s made a turn and headed for the target. This wasn't a mission over enemy territory, and there was no danger to it. As we neared the target Red Dog crawled forward through a little opening into the nose, where the bombardier usually sits. The entire nose of a B-26 is Plexiglas, and a man can see straight down, up and all around. Arnold motioned for me to come up with him. I squeezed into the tiny compartment. There was barely room for the two of us. The motors made less noise up there. By now daylight had come and everything below was clear and spectacular. I stayed in the nose until we were well on the way home, and then crawled back and sat in the copilot's seat. The sun came out, the air was smooth, and it was wonderful flying over England so early in the morning. Down below, the country was green, moist and enchanting in the warmth of the early dawn. Early morning trains left rigidly straight trails of white smoke for a mile behind them. Now and then we would see a military convoy, but mostly the highways were empty and lonesome looking. The average man wasn't out of bed yet. Somehow a person always feels good being up early in the morning, feels a little ahead of the rest of the world and a little egotistical about it. We lost altitude gradually, and kept clearing our ears by opening our mouths. Gradually it got warmer and warmer. Chief talked now and then on the interphone to the rest of the crew. Other times I would notice his mouth working, and I think he must have been singing to himself. Two or three times he leaned over and remarked on what an unusually nice formation they were flying that morning. Once Red Dog turned and yelled back through the little door, "Did you see that supply dump we just passed? Biggest damn thing I ever saw in my life." Suddenly I remembered I had seen only four men in our crew, when I knew there were supposed to be five. I asked one of the gunners about it. He said, "Oh, Pruitt, he's the tail gunner. He's back there. He's probably sound asleep." We came back over our home airdrome, peeled off one by one, and landed. Red Dog stayed up in the nose during the landing, so I stayed in the copilot's seat. Landing is about the most dangerous part of flying, yet it's the one sensation I love most, especially when riding up front. Chief put the big plane down so easily we hardly knew when the wheels touched. I was shocked to learn later that we landed at the frightening speed of more than a hundred miles an hour. We sat in the plane for a couple of minutes while Chief filled out some reports, then opened the hatch in the floor and dropped out. I was the first one to hit the ground. The second man out looked at me, startled-like, and said, "Good Lord, I didn't know you were with us. I'm the tail gunner. I recognize you from your picture, but I didn't know you were along. I've been asleep most of the trip." That was Sergeant Pruitt. A jeep carried us back to the locker room where we had left our gear. Then we headed for the mess hall. "We'll have another breakfast now," Chief said. It was just 7:30. So for the second time in five hours we ate breakfast. Had real eggs again, too. "It's a tough war," one of the boys laughed. But nobody is qualified to joke like that who hasn't been scores of times across the Channel coast, in that other world of fighters and flak. And those boys all had. It was good to be with them. The B-26 squadron lived exceedingly well for wartime. They realized it, and were full of appreciation. I almost never heard an airman griping about things around there. It was an old station, and well established. Our men were comfortably housed and wonderfully fed. The officers had a club of their own, with a bar and a lounge room, and the Red Cross provided a big club right on the station for the enlisted men. There were all kinds of outdoor games, such as baseball, badminton, volleyball, tennis, and even golf at a nearby town. One of the pilots came back from golfing and said, "I don't know what they charged me a greens fee for, I was never anywhere near the greens." At first I lived with the younger officers of the squadron, then I moved over with the enlisted gunners, radiomen, and flight engineers. They lived only a little differently. And the line between officers and enlisted men among the combat crews was so fine that I was barely aware of any difference after a few days' acquaintance with them. First I'll try to tell you how the officers lived. I stayed in the but of my friends Lieutenants Lindsey Greene and Jack Arnold. There was usually a spare cot in any hut, for there was almost always one man away on leave. Their barracks was a curved steel Nissen hut, with doors and windows at each end but none along the sides. The floor was bare concrete. Eight men lived in the hut. Three were pilots, the others bombardiers and navigators. One was a captain, the others were lieutenants. The boys slept on black steel cots with cheap mattresses. They had rough white sheets and Army blankets. They were all wearing summer underwear then, and they slept in it. When the last one went to bed he turned out the light and opened one door for ventilation. Of course until the lights were out the but had to be blacked out. Each cot had a bed lamp rigged over it, with a shade made from an empty fruit-juice can. The boys had a few bureaus and tables they bought or dug up from somewhere. On the tables were pictures of their girls and parents, and on the corrugated steel walls they had pasted pin-up girls from Yank and other magazines. In the center of the but was a rectangular stove made of two steel boxes welded together. They burned wood or coal in it, and it threw out terrific heat. In front of the stove was a settee big enough for three people, and behind the stove was a deep chair. Both settee and chair were made by nailing small tree limbs together. The boys did it themselves. In the top of the hut, when the lights went out, I could see two holes with moonlight streaming through. Somebody shot his .45 one night, just out of exuberance. Somebody else then bet he could put a bullet right through that hole. He lost his bet, which accounted for the other hole. The latrines and washbasins were in a separate building about fifty yards from the hut. The boys and their mechanics had built a small shower room out of packing boxes and rigged up a tank for heating water. They were proud of it, and they took plenty of baths. All around my but were similar ones, connected by concrete or cinder paths. The one next door was about the fanciest. Its name was Piccadilly Palace, and it had a pretty sign over the door saying so. In that but the boys had built a real brick fireplace, with a mantel and everything. In there the biggest poker game was usually going. A sign on the front of the but said, "Poker Seats by Reservation Only." On the other side of the door was another sign saying, "Robin Hood Slept Here." They put that up when they first arrived because somebody told them the station was in Sherwood Forest. They found out later they were a long way from Sherwood Forest but they left the sign up anyhow. It was a good station. The boys were warm, clean, well fed; their life was dangerous and not very romantic to them, and between missions they got homesick and sometimes bored. But even so they had a pretty good time with their live young spirits and they were grateful that they could live as well and have as much pleasure as they did have. For they knew that anything good in wartime is just that much velvet. "My crew" of two officers and three enlisted men had been flying together as a team since before leaving America more than a year before. Every one of them was then far beyond his allotted number of combat missions. Every one of them was perfectly willing to work through another complete tour of missions if he could just go home for a month. I believe the same thing was true of almost everybody at that station. And it was a new experience for me, because most of the combat men I had been with before wanted to feel finished forever when they went home. Every one of the crew had the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Air Medal, with clusters. They had had flak through their plane numerous times, but none of them had ever been hit. They expected it to be rough when the invasion started, but they were anxious to get it over with. They had usually flown one mission a day over France, with occasionally two as the tempo of the spring bombings increased. But during the invasion they knew they would probably be flying three and sometimes four missions a day. They would be in the air before daylight and would get home from their last mission after dark. They would go for days and maybe weeks in a frenzied routine, eating hurriedly between missions, snatching a few hours of weary sleep at night, and being up and at it again hours before daylight to shuttle back and forth across the Channel. They and thousands of others like them. Fighting purely an air war-as they had been doing up to then-was in some ways so routine that it was like running a big business. Usually a B-26 crew man "worked" only about two hours a day. He returned to a life that was pretty close to a normal one. There was no ground war to confuse him or disturb him or even inspire him with its horror. His war was highly technical, highly organized, and in a way somewhat academic. Because of this it was easy to get bored. An air crew man had lots of spare time on his hands. Neither the officers nor the enlisted fliers had any duties whatever other than flying. When not flying they either loafed around their own huts, writing letters or playing poker or just sitting in front of the fire talking, or else they took leave for a few hours and went to the nearby villages. They could go to dances or sit in the local pubs and talk. And every two weeks they got two days' leave. That again was something new to us who had been in the Mediterranean. Down there fliers did get leave to go to rest camps, and even to town once in a while if there was a town, but there was nothing regular or automatic about it. Those boys in England got their two days' leave twice a month just like clockwork. They could do anything they wanted with it. Most of them went to London. Others went to nearby cities where they had made acquaintances. They went to dances and night clubs and shows. They painted the town and blew off steam as any active man who lives dangerously must do now and then. They made friends among the British people, and they looked up those same friends on the next trip to town. They did a thousand and one things on their leave, and it did them good. Also, it gradually created an understanding between the two peoples, a conviction that the other fellow was all right in his own peculiar way. After a certain number of missions a crew was usually given two weeks' leave. Most of them spent it traveling. Our fliers often toured Scotland on those leaves. It was amazing the number of men who had been to Edinburgh and loved the place. They had visited Wales and North Ireland and the rugged southwestern coast, and they knew the Midlands and the little towns of England. Those two-week leaves didn't substitute in the fliers' minds for a trip back to America. That was all they lived for. That was what they talked about most of the time. A goal is what anyone overseas needs-a definite time limit to shoot for. Naturally it wasn't possible at that time to send many people home, and the fliers appreciated and accepted that fact. But once the invasion was made and the first period of furious intensity had passed, our veteran fliers hoped to start going home in greater numbers. Lieutenant Chief Collins was what is known as a "hot pilot." He used to be a fighter pilot, and he handled his Marauder bomber as though it were a fighter. He was daring, and everybody called him a "character," but his crew had a fanatical faith in him. Chief was addicted to violent evasive action when they were in flak, and the boys liked that because it made them harder to hit. When they finished their allotted number of missions-which used to give them an automatic trip to America, but didn't any more-Chief buzzed the home field in celebration of their achievement. He got that old B-26 wound up in a steep glide, came booming down at the runway, leveled off a foot above the ground and went screaming across the field at 250 miles an hour-only a foot above the ground all the way. And at the same time he shot out all the red flares he had in the plane. They said it looked like a Christmas tree flying down the runway. Chief used to be a clerk with the Aetna Life Insurance Company, back in his home town of Hartford, Connecticut. He was twenty-five and didn't know whether he would go back to the insurance job or not after the war. He said it depended on how much they offered him. Lieutenant Red Dog Arnold was only twenty-two, although he seemed much older to me. He had enlisted in the Army almost four years before, when he was just out of high school. He was an infantryman for a year and a half before he finally went to bombardier school and got wings for his chest and bars for his shoulders. He figured that as a bombardier he had killed thousands of Germans, and he thought it was an excellent profession. He said his finest bombing experience was when they missed the target one day and quite accidentally hit a barracks full of German troops and killed hundreds of them. Red Dog was friendly and gay and yet he was a fundamentally serious man who took the war to heart. The enlisted men of the crew said that he wasn't afraid of anything, and that the same was true of Chief Collins. They were a cool pair, yet both as hospitable and friendly as you could imagine. The plane's engineer-gunner was Sergeant Eugene Gaines from New Orleans. He married a British girl, and they had a little apartment in a town eight miles from the field. Every evening Gaines rode his bicycle home, stayed till about midnight, then rode back to the airdrome. For he never knew when he might be routed out at 2 A.M. on an early mission, and he had to be on hand. It took him about forty-five minutes to ride the eight miles, and he had made the round trip nightly all winter, in the blackout and through indescribable storms. Such is the course of love. Gaines was a quiet and sincere young man of twenty-four. He was a carpenter before the war, and he figured that would be a pretty good trade to stick to after the war. But if a depression should come he had an ace in the hole. He owned a farm at Pearl River, Louisiana, and he figured that with a farm in the background he could always be safe and independent. Gaines wore a plain wedding ring on his left hand. I noticed that a lot of the married soldiers wore wedding rings. In flight it was Gaines's job to watch the engine temperatures and pressures and to help with the gadgets during landings and take-offs. As soon as they reached the other side of the Channel he went back and took over the top turret gun. He had shot at a few planes but never knocked one down. The radioman-gunner was Sergeant John Siebert from Charlestown, Massachusetts. He had learned to fly before the war, although he was only twenty-three. He had about eight hundred hours in the air as pilot. Yet because of one defective eye he couldn't get into cadet school. He had had two years at Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and he hoped to go back and finish after the war. Siebert too was quiet and sincere. His closest escape was when his waist gun was shot right out of his hand. The thing suddenly just wasn't there. Yet he didn't get a scratch. Sergeant Kermit Pruitt, the tail gunner, was an old cowboy from Arizona-looked like one, acted like one, talked like one. But he was no hillbilly in the head. Pruitt was the talking kind. He talked and sang on the slightest provocation. He liked old cowboy songs. They said that every once in a while he would start singing some cowboy song over the interphone while they were actually on the bomb run, and the pilot would have to yell at him to shut up. He liked to tell stories about cowpokes in Arizona. He told one day about an old cowboy who went to the city and registered at a hotel for the first time in his life. The clerk asked if he wanted a room with running water, and the cowboy yelled, "Hell, no What do you think I am, a trout?" Pruitt drove the rest of the crew crazy by shooting his tail gun at the most unexpected times. In more than fifty missions he had never yet seen an enemy plane to shoot at, so he would break the monotony by shooting at gun emplacements and flak ships two miles below. Those sudden blasts scared the wits our of the rest of the crew, and Pruitt then would catch a little brimstone over the interphone from the pilot. But that didn't faze him, or impair his affection for his pilot. Pruitt said he just shopped around in the Army till he found a pilot that suited him. Back in America he "missed" a couple of trains to avoid going overseas with an outfit he didn't like. He said his hunch proved right, for his entire old crew in that outfit were killed on their first mission. Finally he got a chance to go with the B-26s. Pilot Chief Collins was a wild man then, and nearly everybody was afraid to ride with him. But when Pruitt saw him handle a plane he said to himself, "There's my man." So he got on Chief's crew, and he stayed on it. He said he wouldn't think of flying with anybody else. Pruitt was thin, not much bigger than me, and he usually wore coveralls which made him look even thinner: He went around poking his head out from hunched-up shoulders with a quizzical half grin on his face. He sure did enjoy living. Pleasant Valley, Arizona, was Pruitt's home diggings. He was thirty, and married to a beautiful girl who was part French and 1/32 Indian. On Christmas Day, 1943, they were blessed with an heir. Pruitt had a pocketbookful of pictures of his wife and offspring, and he showed them every few minutes. If I went out of the room and came back five minutes later, he showed me the pictures again. I was sleeping near Pruitt one night when the crews were awakened at 2 A.M. for an early mission. It was funny to see them come out of bed. Not a soul moved a muscle for about five minutes, and then they all suddenly came out as though shot from a gun. Pruitt always started talking as soon as he was awake. On this particular morning he said, "When the war's over I'm gonna get me an Apache Indian to work for me. I'm gonna tell him to get me up at two o'clock in the morning, and when he comes in I'm gonna take my .45 and kill the s.o.b." The three sergeants in my crew sort of took me under their wing and we ran around together for two or three days. One night they slicked all up, put on their dress uniforms with all their sergeants' stripes and their silver wings and all their ribbons, and we went to a nearby town to a singing concert. Then we went into the back room of the local pub and sat around a big round table with two battered old British women-very cheerful and pleasant-who were drinking beer. They giggled when Pruitt told stories of his escapades as a cowboy and of his trips to London on leave. There were about twenty flying sergeants in the same barracks with my pals. They lived about the same as the officers, except that they were more crowded and they didn't have settees around their stove or shelves for their stuff. But they had the same pin-up girls, the same flying talk, the same poker game, and the same guys in bed getting some daytime shuteye while bedlam went on around them. I got to know all those flying sergeants and I couldn't help being struck by what a swell bunch the p were. All of them were sort of diffident at first, but they opened up when I had known them for a little while and treated me like a king. They told me their troubles and their fears and their ambitions, and they wanted so much for me to have a good time while I was with them. With those boys, as with nearly all the specialized groups of soldiers I have been with, their deep sincerity and their concern about their future were apparent. They couldn't put into words what they were fighting for, but they knew it had to be done and almost invariably they considered themselves fortunate to be living well and fighting the enemy from the air instead of on the ground. But home, and what would be their fate in the postwar world, was always in the back of their minds, and every one of them had some kind of plan laid. Sergeant Phil Scheier was a radio gunner. That is, he operated the radio of his B-26 bomber when it needed operating, and when over enemy territory he switched to one of the plane's machine guns. It was hard to think of Sergeant Scheier as a tough gunner. In fact it was hard to think of him as an enlisted man. He was what you would call the "officer type"-he would have seemed more natural with a major's leaves on his shoulders than a sergeant's stripes on his arms. But he didn't feel that way about it. "I'm the only satisfied soldier in the Army," he said. "I've found a home in the Army. I like what I'm doing, and I wouldn't trade my job for any other in the Army." Not that he intended to stay in after the war. He was twenty-eight, but he intended to go to college as soon as he got out of uniform. He had been a radio script writer for several years but he wanted to go to Columbia School of Journalism and learn how to be a big fascinating newspaperman like me. Sergeant Scheier's home was in Richmond, Staten Island. Like the others he had a DFC and an Air Medal with clusters. "When I won a Boy Scout medal once they got out the band and had a big celebration," he said. "But when you get the DFC you just sign a paper and a guy hands it to you as though it was nothing." Later, when I mentioned that I would like to put that remark in my column, Sergeant Scheier laughed and said, "Oh, I just made that up. I never was a Boy Scout." Sergeant Kenneth Brown, of Ellwood City, Pennsylvania, was one of two men in my barracks who had the Purple Heart. He had been hit in the back and arm by flak several months before. He was a good-natured guy, and he had the next war figured out. He wasn't planning to go hide in a cave or on a desert island, as so many threatened to do. He thought he had a better way. He said the minute the war started he was going to get a sand table and start making humps and valleys and drawing lines in the sand. He figured that would automatically make him a general and then he'd be all right. Sergeant Kenneth Hackett used to work at the Martin plant near Baltimore, making B-26 bombers. He was thirty-four, and he had supposed that if he ever got into the Army he would be put in some backwash job far removed from combat. "I sure never figured when I was helping to build these planes that someday I'd be flying over France in one of them as a radio-gunner," he said. But there he was, with half his allotted missions already run off. Sergeant Hackett's home was in North Miami. In fact his father was chief of police in that section. But the sergeant's wife and daughter were in Baltimore. Hackett showed me a snapshot of his daughter Theda sitting on the tender of their automobile. He said -she was twelve, and I thought he was kidding. She seemed so grown-up that I thought she must be his sweetheart instead of his daughter. But I was convinced when the other boys chimed in and said, "Tell him about the lipstick." It seems Theda wrote her daddy that all the other girls her age were using rouge and lipstick and was it all right if she did too. Well, it wasn't all right. Sergeant Hackett said maybe he was old-fashioned but he sent word back to Theda that if she started using lipstick at her age he'd skin her alive when he got back, or words to that effect. And he didn't take time to write it in a letter. He sent it by full rate cablegram. Sergeant Howard Hanson was acting first sergeant of the squadron. He was the guy who ran the show and routed people out of bed and handed out demerits and bawled people out. Also, he was an engineer-gunner. He had long since flown past his allotted number of combat missions, and he . was still flying. Sergeant Hanson was thirty-seven and therefore automatically known in the Army as Pappy. Any soldier over thirty-five is almost always called Pop or Pappy. Sergeant Hanson didn't care. He liked his work and had a job to do and wanted to get it done. "I know what I'm fighting for," he said. "Here's what." And he handed me a snapshot of his family-wife, girl, and boy. The girl was almost grown and the boy was in the uniform of a military school. Hanson's home was at 6ro West Roth Street, Topeka, Kansas. Pappy used to be in the motor freight business before the war. I suppose in a way you could say he was still in the motor freight business. Kind of ticklish freight, though. Sergeant Walter Hassinger was from Hutchinson, Kansas. He was twenty-nine, and in a way the most remarkable man at the station. In the first place, he was a radio-gunner who had more missions under his belt than any other crew member there. In the second place, they said he had contributed more to satisfied living and general morale than anybody else. Hassinger spent $400 of his own money creating a little private radio station and hooking it by loudspeakers into barracks all over the place. Finally his station was heard by seventeen hundred men. Over this station he rebroadcast news bulletins, repeated orders and instructions that came from headquarters, played phonograph records, and carried on a spasmodic monologue razzing the officers and just gabbing about everything from the abominable weather to the latest guy who had wrecked a jeep. Lieutenant Jim Gray was from Wichita Falls, Texas, and he looked like a Texan-wind-burned and unsmooth. He was far over his allotted missions, and if it hadn't been for the nearing invasion he would probably have been on his way home by then. Like every other Texan in the Air Forces-and it seemed to be half Texans-he had to take a lot of razzing about his state. But he was proud of it, and always in plain sight under the end of his cot was a beautifully scrolled pair of cowboy boots. Lieutenant Gray was a firm believer in the flak vest. A flak vest is a sort of coat of mail, made up of little squares of steel plating. It hangs from the shoulders and covers the chest and back. One day a hunk of hot metal about the size of a walnut struck him right in the chest. He said it felt as if some giant had hit him with his fist. It bent the steel plating but didn't go through. Without it he would have been a dead duck. Sergeant Hanson, who flew with him, had taken the bent plate out and was keeping it as a souvenir. Lieutenant Gray kept the hunk of shrapnel itself, with a little tag on it. The lieutenant was anxious to get home. Not so much because he was homesick but because, as he said, "I'd just like to fly in a little Texas weather for a change." The English weather was the fliers' biggest complaint. It's dark and cloudy and rainy most of the time, and it changes like lightning. They said that sometimes they would start to take off and the other end of the runaway would close in before they got there. How those mighty air fleets ever operated at all is a modern miracle. In that area I ran into an old friend, another Texan-Major Royal Roussel, who used to be managing editor of the Houston Press. He was about my age, and like me he was starting to feel decrepit. He was in the planning section of the bomber command, and he said it was worse than running a newspaper. The pressure of detail and the responsibility of mapping those complex missions for the whole command sometimes had him mentally swamped. At such times he just got up and walked out for half a day. Sometimes he went flying, sometimes he played golf. "I played golf yesterday," he said, "and I'm sure I'm the only man in England who ever succeeded in playing eighteen holes without even once, not one single time, being on the fairway." Every pilot and enlisted combat crew man had an English bicycle, for the distances are long on a big airdrome. The boys in my but had to go about a mile to the flying line and about a quarter of a mile to eat. Breakfast ended at eight, and like human beings the world over those not flying got up just in time to run fast and beat the breakfast deadline by five seconds. They ate at long wooden tables, sitting on benches. But they had white tablecloths, and soldiers to serve them. At supper they had to wear neckties and their dress blouses. The officers' club bar opened half an hour before supper and some of the boys went and had a couple of drinks before eating. As everywhere else in England, the whisky and gin were all gone a few minutes after the bar opened. The enlisted crew men ate in a big room adjoining the officers' mess. They ate exactly the same food, but they ate it a little differently. They lined up and passed through a chow line. White enamel plates were furnished them, but each man had to bring his own knife, fork, spoon and canteen cup. Their tables were not covered. When they finished they carried out their own dishes and emptied anything left over into a garbage pail, but they didn't have to wash their dishes. The enlisted men didn't have to dress up, even for supper. Everybody thought that the food was exceptionally good. While I was there we had real eggs for breakfast, and for other meals such things as pork chops, hamburger steak, chocolate cake and ice cream. Of course both these messes were for combat crews only. Ground personnel ate at a different mess. They didn't have quite as fine a choice as the fliers, but I guess nobody begrudged the little extra. In various clubrooms on the airdrome, and even in some of the huts, there were numerous paintings of beautiful girls, colored maps of Europe, and so on. One but had been wonderfully decorated by one of the occupants-Lieutenant C. V. Cripe, a bombardier from Elkhart, Indiana. He also painted insignia on planes. This same but had a tiny little garden walk leading up to the door. On a high post flanking the walk there hung white wooden boards with the name of each flier in the but painted in green letters, and under the name rows of little green bombs representing the number of missions he had been on. All the names were of officers except for the bottom board, which read "Pfc. Gin Fizz," and under it were painted five little puppy dogs marching along in a row with their tails up. Pfc. Gin Fizz was a small white dog with a face like a gargoyle, and altogether the most ratty and repulsive-looking animal I had ever seen. But she produced beautiful pups practically like an assembly line, and the station was covered with her offspring. Dogs were rampant. There was everything from fat fuzzy little puppies with eyes barely open to a gigantic Great Dane. This one magnificent beast was owned by Lieutenant Richard Lightfine, of Garden City, Long Island, and went by the name of Tray. The gunner sergeants in my barracks had a breedless but lovable cur named Omer. He came by his name in a peculiar fashion. Some months before the squadron made a raid on a town in France named St. Omer. One plane got shot up over the target, and back in England had to make a forced landing at a strange field. While waiting for the crippled plane to be patched up the crew acquired the puppy. In celebration of their return from the dead they named him Omer. Omer slept impartially on anybody's cot, and the boys brought him scraps from the mess hall. He didn't even know he was at war. Life was very good. The station had a glee club too, and a very good one. They gave a concert for the people of the nearest village and I went along to hear it. The club had twenty-nine men in it, mostly ground men but some fliers. The director was Corporal Frank Parisi from Bedford, Ohio. He had taught music in junior high school there. The club had already given ten concerts, and they were so good they were booked for three concerts weekly for six weeks ahead, and slated to sing in London. So you see that lots of things besides shooting and dying can go along with a war.” The 456th Bombardment Squadron (part of the 323rd Bomb Group, "White Tails") flew B-26 Marauders in the ETO from July 1943 to April 1945, focusing on medium-altitude strategic bombing in France and Germany. Key missions included targeting airfields during "Big Week" (Feb 1944), supporting D-Day (June 1944), the Saint-Lô breakthrough (July 1944), and the Battle of the Bulge. [1, 2, 3] Key Operational Details (456th BS / 323rd BG) Aircraft: Martin B-26 Marauder. Theater/Command: Eighth Air Force (1943), then Ninth Air Force (1943-1945). Commanding Officer: Colonel Herbert B. Thatcher. Major Campaign Focus: Air Offensive, Europe; Normandy; Northern France; Rhineland; Ardennes-Alsace. Distinguished Unit Citation: Awarded for missions on December 24-27, 1944, targeting enemy transportation in the Ardennes. [1, 2, 3, 4] Selected Mission Highlights & Timeline 16 July 1943: First combat mission (8th Air Force). 20-25 February 1944 (Big Week): Attacked airfields at Leeuwarden and Venlo. 6 June 1944 (D-Day): Struck coastal batteries and roads to support the invasion. June 1944: Targeted infrastructure, including railroad bridges at Clecy (June 10) and Cerisy Forest (June 10). July 1944: Supported Operation Cobra (breakout at St. Lo). August 1944: Transitioned to night missions targeting fuel/ammo dumps near St. Malo. September 1944: Supported operations near the Siegfried Line. December 1944: Attacked transport hubs during the Battle of the Bulge. April 1945: Final combat missions over Germany before moving to air disarmament duties. [1, 2, 3] Station Locations (England/France)Selected Bibliography of Publications:



, England: May 1943. Earls Colne, England: June 1943 – July 1944. Beaulieu, England: July 1944 – August 1944. Lessay, France (A-20): August 1944. Chartres, France (A-40): September 1944. Laon/Athies, France (A-69): October 1944 – February 1945. Denain/Prouvy, France (A-83): February 1945 EXHIBIT PLACARD THE MARTIN B-26 MARAUDER IN EUROPE 323rd Bombardment Group (M) — Ninth Air Force Operations SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY & HISTORICAL SOURCES This exhibit is supported by veteran memoirs, official unit histories, scholarly works, and commemorative publications documenting the combat service of the B-26 Marauder in the European Theater of Operations (ETO), with emphasis on the 323rd Bomb Group. PRIMARY & PERSONAL ACCOUNTS Ernie Pyle
Brave Men (1944) — New York: H. Holt and Co.
➡ Wartime journalism capturing firsthand experiences of American airmen during WWII combat operations. Louis S. Rehr & Carleton R. Rehr
Marauder: Memoir of a B-26 Pilot in Europe in World War II (2004) — Jefferson, NC: McFarland
➡ Personal pilot memoir detailing missions, survival, and the operational realities of flying the B-26. Carl H. Moore
Flying the B-26 Marauder over Europe (2013) — McFarland & Company
➡ Navigator’s account of combat missions, navigation challenges, and European air operations. Ray H. Harwood
1st Lt. Theodore V. Harwood: Letters Home From WWII: A B-26 Marauder Man’s Journey (1996 reissued 2025) — Amazon Books
➡ Collection of wartime correspondence documenting personal experiences of a Marauder crew member. Ray H. Harwood
Ray Harwood Martin B-26 Research Project: 1st Lt. Theodore V. Harwood’s B-26 Marauder (2025) — Amazon Books
➡ Expanded research archive compiling operational history and family service documentation. UNIT HISTORIES & OPERATIONAL STUDIES Ross E. Harlan
Strikes: 323rd Bomb Group in World War II (2005) — Oklahoma Cavanal Publishers
➡ Definitive operational history of the 323rd Bomb Group’s missions in the European Theater. John O. Moench
Marauder Men: An Account of the Martin B-26 Marauder (1999) — Malia Enterprises
➡ Comprehensive history of the B-26 across Allied air forces, including detailed coverage of the 323rd Bomb Group. Jerry Scutts
B-26 Marauder Units of the Eighth and Ninth Air Forces (1997) — Osprey Aerospace
➡ Squadron-level analysis of Marauder deployment, tactics, and operational structure. Roger A. Freeman, Trevor J. Allen & Bernard Mallon
B-26 Marauder at War (1978) — Scribner
➡ Foundational reference work on Marauder combat service and tactical evolution. 🏛️ COMMEMORATIVE & HISTORICAL SOURCES TIME Magazine
70th Anniversary Tribute: D-Day – 24 Hours That Saved the World (2014)
➡ Commemorative publication placing Allied air operations within the broader D-Day invasion context. Marauder Historical Society
Return of the Marauder Men (Turner Publishing Company) B26.COM➡ Veteran-driven historical preservation project documenting crew experiences and legacy remembrance. BY TED HARWOOD FOR B26.COM