1944, Cont'd

 

 

 

 

 

OPERATION DRAGOON, Cont'd

 

SUPREME HEADQUARTERS ALLIED EXPEDITIONARY FORCE

 

12TH TACTICAL AIR COMMAND

 

17TH TROOP CARRIER SQUADRON

 

30 SEP 44

Istres Airfield, France. Dawn to dusk airlifts are conducted to the battle area near the Beifort Gap, delivering fuel; ammo; food and replacements evacuating wounded on return flights. Inclement weather persists. Since there are no NAV-AIDS, pilots rely on landmarks to fly their routes (a bend in a river; a certain mountain peak; a chapel on a hill, etc) . Most of our flights are conducted at very low levels in an attempt to remain below the constant overcast. This is considered safer than attempting to descend blindly through the clouds over uncertain terrain. During one of these low level flights. Pop Foy's pilot was following the Rhone River, racing the approaching storm back to Lyon. With his props barely clearing the water, his ship struck a steel cable where a bridge had once been. The cable bounced over the windshield, slid down the fuselage, and sliced off the vertical fin and rudder, possibly damaging the stabilizers. Before anyone could react, the ship dove into the river. The crew escaped injury, but ironically, a hitchhiking sailor was drowned. I flew 155 hours during September, surpassing the required 1,000, and am scheduled to rotate on 11 Oct. I am assigned to a new C-47B, #43-2700, crewed by my old Crew Chief, T/Sgt. R. G. Brown.

 

 

I-10 Oct 44

Airlifts increase, with 17th crews flying up to three rapid turn-arounds daily. On a Special Mission, my crew flies Brigadier General Terry Alien, CG of the 3rd Infantry Division, from Rome to a strip near Dijon, France. The General is a slight, wiry man, not unwilling to chat with the enlisted crewmen. I was saddened to read of his death in combat a few weeks later. Weather worsens, and I am anxious to receive my rotation orders.

 

 

11 Oct 44

Two ROs depart on rotation; I am bumped by another, a junior RO who is being sent back to the states on emergency with a severe case of amoebic dysentery. I am to be first on the next list

 

 

11-31 Oct 44

Maximum airlifts continue. My replacement, a young corporal fresh from radio school arrives at Istres with my rotational orders on the last day of October.

 

 

1 Nov 44

Since it is the first of the month, I decide to fly today's mission in order to get in my flying time. While we are pre-flighting, Bob Brown, develops a case of the "GIs", and goes on sick call, assigning his assistant to the flight. While I continue the pre-flight, Pop Foy comes by on the way to his ship. Spotting me in the entrance of the ship, he grabs me by the arm, yelling, "Where the hell do you think you are going?" "I'm taking this flight to get in my flying time." "Don't be silly," he growls. "You can get in your time on your way back to Rome. You have your orders, and if you don't get out of that airplane, I'm going to knock your head off, and carry you out!" Knowing Pop intimately, I know better than to argue, and send for my replacement. R. G. Brown and I were more than a bit "shook" that evening, when we learn that #2700 had gone down in the Beifort area, with the loss of all aboard-the four-man crew, including a young RO on his first mission; the flight nurse; Medic, and 17 litter patients.* I couldn't believe my luck! Had my orders been delayed only one more day, or if Pop Foy had not been concerned with my well being, I wouldn't be writing this, today! I left the 17th a few days later, but kept in touch by mail. Strangely, the CO, Lt Col Cheney, who had been my pilot coming across, is on the same orders. By the time I rotated, I had logged over 1100 hours "east of Algiers." The 12th Tactical Air Command is replaced by the 1st Tactical Air Force.

 

* The cause of the disaster, whether accidental or through enemy action was never determined.

 

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