Boyd Thompson's
ILLUSTRATED
–
“Last
night, Flying Fortresses raided the Nazi submarine base at St. Nazaire…”
These giant bombers are rapidly becoming as well known over here as in
Three
and a half years ago, these boys who are now flying the Fortresses knew very
little about Europe and crises and Hitler; little about France and nothing about
Flying Fortresses.
They
knew, perhaps, that their fathers had had a “good time” in
Then,
one day in September, 1939, while listening to the radio, an announcement
between a Bob Hope programme and the latest football results told them that war
had broken out again.
They
didn’t pay too much attention to it, however, and spent the next nine months
just as they had always done.
Then
the newspaper headlines and the radio grew frantic again–France had fallen and
The
boys were still more interested in their football games and their girl friends,
but went and joined the American Army Air Force.
They
were eager to learn their jobs and did much flying above the high mountains of
Then
one day the radio ceased to broadcast football results and their girl friends
were left waiting in vain–early that Sunday morning the Japs had attacked
Pearl Harbour and on the following day America was at war with the Axis.
Many
of those young men were already stationed in Pacific bases and were killed on
the very first day. Others took off from their bases to patrol Pacific waters,
praying for the opportunity of having a crack at enemy submarines.
They
were still patrolling when they heard the story of Captain Colin P. Kelly,
who had been training with them at the same airfield and who had dived his
aircraft straight at the Japanese Battleship, becoming the first hero of the new
American Army Air Force.
They were mad with rage and boiling to get into the battle themselves.
Finally, came the order to get ready, but instead of flying west the
formation took off towards the east, and two days later they landed on the grey,
cold coast of
After
a short rest they took off again. And twelve hours later they were having
breakfast with the old-timers of the R.A.F. in
Talking
with the boys in the blue uniforms soon made them realise what it meant to have
been at war for three years. They heard the names of Kiel, Hamburg, Berlin,
Cologne, Essen, Brest and St. Nazaire.
Soon
after that, they learned much more; they quickly prepared for operations and
went to Abbeville, Lille, Meaulte. One
plane was lost and they shot down ten and probably nine enemy aircraft.
It
gave them pleasure to look at the photographs of their bombs bursting in the
middle of the targets–it really seemed then that the American eagle had joined
the British Lion.
Often
they had been called in the middle of the night for briefing, and then bad
weather has made flying impossible, and the raid has had to be cancelled.
On
one occasion their disappointed faces were too much for the colonel. “Never
mind boys, you get a credit for that mission,” said the colonel.
“How’s
that, colonel?” asked one of the sergeants.
“It
has been laid down that any one that gets briefed gets credit for a mission,
even if he doesn’t go.” Said the colonel.
“That
credit sure hits the hell out of the Germans, don’t it colonel?”
They
returned to the mess, picked up the packs of well-used playing cards, re-read
for the twentieth time their last letter from home, and put on again the
worn-out record of “From the
Mountains of Montezuma to the Shores of Tripoli.”
At
the following morning the crews were briefed again.
The same colonel got up and said; “Your attention, please,” And then
went on.
“This
afternoon when you return you will find an officer standing here by this
black-board. You will report your
arrival so that we can arrange for interrogating you.
“You
will kindly wait for interrogation in the room where the coffee and Scotch are
served.
“This
is a very important target today . .
. .
Regarding flak on the way in to the target
. .
. As to enemy fighters, you will encounter more than you have yet
. .
. “The Germans can put ninety-five fighters in the air around the
primary target .
. .
. The fighters will be pretty
bad around the secondary target, because they can put ninety-five single-engine
fighters and fifty-five twin-engine fighters .
. .
“You
will, of course, have heard about this target before - it is St. Nazaire. The
R.A.F. have bombed it many times before, but it is more important now than ever
before, since it is from St. Nazaire that the Nazi U-boats go out to attack the
convoys to North Africa.”
For
the fraction of a moment the boys’ faces were grave and serious. Then, with
typical American nonchalance they strolled back to the mess to await the
announcement which would send them hurrying to their aircraft.
They
seemed to be extraordinarily indifferent about it, both by action and
word–some of them sat down in their flying kit to the bridge games that they
had been playing the night before.
Then
the face of one bombardier suddenly brightened.
“I have discovered the recompense for getting up early in the morning
he declared to the mess at large. “We
can hear the evening radio programmes from California.”
Then
everybody grew excited, as suddenly and unexpectedly they heard the voice of Bob
Hope. For a moment the bridge and
the mission ahead of them were forgotten, and they crowded around the small
radio set to listen to the programme.
Then
the announcement “To your
planes,” drowned the radio programme, and a moment or so later, the voice of
Bob Hope was cracking jokes to an empty and silent mess-room.
From
the control tower I watched them taking off.
Beside me was the intelligence officer who, in the war of 1914 - 18, was
a flying ace with the famous Lafayette Squadron.
We saw the shining Fortresses taking off one by one, with the regularity
of soldiers at a parade ground drill.
Then
he turned to me and said “The way
those kids get on with the job, without any gestures or fuss, makes us – the
adventurers and heroes of the last war – very envious, and very proud.
“They
come back, sometimes with one engine turning, or landing in the “drink,” but
they always come back, like the 32nd Bomb Squadron’s proverbial Bad
Penny. When the interrogation is over they don’t say much about what they
have been through.
“Last
time one of the ground crew couldn’t hold himself back any longer and stowed
away in one of the Fortresses. We
never would have found out if the plane hadn’t landed in the “drink” in
mid-Channel.
“He
saved half of the crew. We had to
punish him a little of course but at the same time we recommended him for a
decoration.”
It
was not long before the Fortresses returned from their short trip.
There were some holes in the machine, but none was missing.
The
pilot of the “bad penny,” climbing out of the plane, recognized me
and grinned broadly. He said
“After this is over, the longest trip I’ll ever take will be from my house
to the nearest river on my bicycle, with my fishing gear on my back.”
THE
FOLLOWING CAPTIONS DESCRIBE FIVE ASSOCIATED USAAC PHOTOS
IN
THE ARTICLE “A SHORT TRIP TO FRANCE” by ROBERT CAPA: "Before
sailing for Britain Capa made a deal with The Saturday Evening Post, because the
Post published both black-and-white and colour photographs, in the hope of
luring readers away from the monochrome Life magazine." (He had worked for
Life previously, but had fallen out with them about their reluctance to publish
colour photographs and their lack of respect for his ability). "During his
1942-1943 stay in Britain - at which time Capa was working for Collier's Weekly
Magazine, which also published colour photographs - Capa often carried two 35mm
cameras, one of them loaded with colour film. He sometimes switched back and
forth so quickly that the only differences between the resulting images is the
element of colour." "Once Capa arrived in Sicily to cover the allied
invasion, in July 1943, he abandoned his use of colour film
for the rest of the war." The following photo of Wabash Cannon Ball
is one of his many Colour photos taken during the war.
Wabash Cannon Ball
Zero
hour for the Flying Fortresses is here. In
the front turret, the gunner is on the alert, for St. Nazaire is the target, and
fighter opposition is anticipated. In
a moment now the 32nd Bomb Squadron bomber, christened “Wabash
Cannonball,” will be airborne.
Main crew briefing
Crews
have assembled for their briefing. They are receiving data concerning targets
and conditions, and are determined to make a real success of the raid.
For it is from St. Nazaire that U-boats set out to menace American
shipping in the Atlantic.
Pilot taking notes
A few quick
notes are made by the pilot at the briefing.
His navigator and co-pilot is (sic) with him.
Leader in foreground
Study in
concentration. Listening to the
briefing are the leader of the formation and his co-pilot.
Two young men
Two more of
those attending the briefing. They
are gunners and will receive their own orders.
This
account was transcribed from original newsprint by Stan Weeks of Wales, UK.
It originates from a magazine article carried by his father Arthur
Douglas Weeks (1913 – 1985) during WW2. Arthur,
a corporal in the Royal Air Force, was the wartime artist who painted ‘WABASH
CANNON BALL’ and the ‘Angry Bomb’ nose art on the Flying
Fortress featured in the article.
Corporal
1007677 Weeks served with the R.A.F. as a fabric worker from 1940 to 1946 and
was a painter, decorator & sign-writer in civilian life.
He was a capable amateur artist, as once evidenced by his colourful Walt
Disney ‘nose art’ cartoons on Stan’s bedroom walls during the forties.
Arthur Weeks pencil sketch of a
Royal Air Force Blenheim Bomber Crew
Arthur’s
opportunity to paint the Wabash Cannon Ball
nose art fell between his return to UK from a year long Iceland posting on
September 23rd 1942 and the Illustrated
Magazine date of December 5th 1942.
Records show that he was first posted to RAF Wilmslow, Cheshire and then
to RAF Pershore, Worcestershire - both England, UK. It seems likely that his RAF
Wilmslow posting was of short duration and that his encounter with 32nd
Bomb Squadron's Wabash Cannon
Ball
was at RAF Pershore.
stanweeks2004@yahoo.co.uk
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