From Chuck Yeager: Working with the Maquis (Shot Down in France Part II)

March 23rd, 2013

March 20 ’44 Spend most the day working on Gabriel’s old engine in the shed. Gabriel is happy I’ve got something to keep me busy. He thinks it will keep me busy the rest of the war – that it will never work.

March 20-21, ’44.Night: Gabriel knows I’m itching to do something in war. He has Raoul pick me up after dark. We ride bikes 2 his house-60 miles.At daylight:we sleep in hayloft.It’s got several areas of escape so I’m okay w/ this…And tired

March 21, 1944: When it got dark, we got the message:it’s raining.We bicycled to a large field.And waited….at a precise moment, everyone lit candles for 3 seconds. We waited….Then we heard an engine growing less feint…a bomber. Uh oh.

No one else was running or ducking….as it came closer, I realized it was one of ours -a British Halifax-4 engine prop bomber.

It’s slow & somewhat low.It’s dropping all sorts of bombs though…

Nothing exploded.

No, it’s canisters dropping, many of them.After the bomber drops its load, it powers up and gets the heck out of there while we all scramble to the field to gather the supplies as quickly as possible.

Those pretty precise drops are pretty nice “rain”.

We start hauling the cannisters out of the field. I want us to move faster but the cannisters are heavy: Every minute means the Germans have more opportunity to find us. And kill us. I keep scanning the perimeter while I work. I’ve got several escape routes into the woods mapped out in my head. I also watch the other workers. Never know when one will turn.
At the edge of the field we load up the oxen drawn carts. The drivers are going to take them to their destination to help the French Underground & Maquis as well as downed flyers. Ration cards, counterfeit money, identity cards, food, supplies, explosives, ammo…
Exhausted – when all is loaded up & the drivers on their way – Raoul and I bicycle home – his home.
Daylight is just around the corner but we make it back in time for a quick slice of bread his mother has made and some soup.
Then we hit the hay.
Literally.
In the hay loft.
Anticipating night and darkness for our next mission.
March 22,’44. Sleep most the morning. Mid-afternoon, I bicycle off to explore escape routes, hiding places.Possible huntin’ & fishin’. When I return, it’s turning dark. Two guys from last night show up w/ plastique explosives-part of supplies dropped-don’t know what they are or how to use them.Do I, the American, know?

c. GCYI

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