March 4, 1944 1st daylight raid over Berlin. Weather was stinkin’. Only 2 P-51s guarding a box of bombers. They hit their targes. I shot down my first enemy aircraft (a/c). Woo hoo.
I was out of ammo returning home. I espied the stragglers of the bombers in formation heading home. I called ahead. “Can I form up with you, I’m out of ammo and could sure use some protection.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t let your trigger guys shoot me down.” You see, P-51s looked somewhat like German aircraft. Me -109, FW 190.
I formed up. We got home safe.
March 5, 1944: This time we headed to Bordeaux – to bomb a factory. Weather was still stinkin’. We could not see the target so we headed east for a target of opportunity. I was tail-end Charlie, called out bandits at 6:00 and turned into them. Three of them and I did a head on pass.
They won.
I didn’t have to climb out of my a/c – it was falling apart all around me. I stepped off. And free fell for 25,000′.
At around 6000′, I pulled the chute. It…..
opened.
As I floated down, I headed for the forest, grabbed a sapling and rode it to the ground. Just like West Virginia.
I gathered the parachute up, couch-walked in the woods a few miles – had to get away from where I came down in case anyone saw me – and hid.
Ain’t a German in the world can catch a West Virginian in the woods.
As I sat and assessed my situation, I noticed I was wounded, so I opened my survival kit, got out the sulfa powder and put it on my wounds – groin area, hands.
I slept a little.
March 6, 1944: In the morning, I heard a rhythmic banging. I crawled to where I could see – it was a woodsman chopping wood.
We played charades – he didn’t speak English, I didn’t speak French. Told me to wait right there- he would be back.
I moved off 20 yards, repositioned with protection from and a good view of where I had met the woodsman.
He returned with 2 men, whispering: American, where are you?
I sussed them out – they were unarmed and not menacing so I presented myself.
They took me to a Russian lady who spoke English. She ran a sort of hotel.
Her first words: Has America run out of men already that they have to send boys?
When I didn’t respond, she said, Are you married?
Me: No.
RL: “Aha! You are wearing a ring!” as she pointed at my right hand.
I looked; then explained: that’s my high school ring.
RL: That’s your wedding ring finger.
Mr: In America, we were the wedding ring on the left hand.
I guess I pass – not a German trying to infiltrate the Maquis. They give me civilian clothes and hide me in the barn. Some Germans poked in the hay, but I was about as far back as one could get. Just hoping they’d miss. Glad now of the lack of food and being skinny – they can tease me about being skinny all they want – maybe the pitchfork will go either side of me and I’ll have the last laugh.
They told me to rest up – that night they were taking me to another hide-out.
Good – this one was dicey. But the Germans had already been so probably wouldn’t be back….
March 6, 1944 evening: dark
We ride off on bicycles: make it as far as Castaljaloux where they put me in a house for the rest of the night and the next day.