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98th Bomb Group

The following men were members of our B-24 combat crew (October 1943-September 1944): Sgt. Benjamin Bertalot (tail turret gunner, from IL), Sgt. Walter Bohnenstiehl (radio operator, from IL), Sgt. Oscar Cushing (ball turret gunner, from NH), Sgt. Donald Good (waist gunner & armorer, from MI), Sgt. Louis Marcarelli (flight engineer, from CT), Lt. Wilson Rapp (navigator, from NY), Lt. Norris Smith (copilot, from AL), Lt. John Stevens (pilot, from MA), Sgt. Herbert Vaughn (top turret gunner, from KS), Lt. William Voss (bombardier, from NY).

Sgts. Bohnenstiehl and Marcarelli and Lts. Stevens and Voss had been members of the Army's 7th Anti-Sub Squadron (7th ARON), based at Jacksonville, FL, but, with its Flight and Maintenance Sections conducting anti-sub operations throughout the Caribbean area from Edinburgh Field, on Trinidad, in the British West Indies (BWI). When the U.S. Navy took over all anti-sub squadrons in the summer of '43, the two Sections returned to Jacksonvlle, and the 7th ARON was transfered to Mt. Home AAB, ID, and disestablished. (Except for its copilots and some flight crew members, the 7th ARON subsequently became a nucleus for the 490th Bomb Group.)

The former copilots and crew members and recent aviation cadets were formed into partial flight crews and received B-24 flight transition training. (Lt. Smith was assigned to our crew as copilot.) These partial crews were then assigned to the 467th Bomb Group, which was about to begin the Combat Crew Training Program at Wendover AAF, UT, about 1 November ‘43. (Sgts. Bertalot, Cushing, Good, and Vaughn, recent graduates of gunnery and other specialty schools, were assigned to our crew as gunners, flight engineer and armorer.)

The 467th Bomb Group completed its training and received its B-24H aircraft near the end of January '44. Early in February, the combat crews flew their planes to Herrington, KS, for the Preparation for Overseas Movement (POM) checks. (While we were at Herrington, Lt. Rapp was assigned to our crew as navigator.)

After the POM checks, the combat crews flew their planes to Morrison AAB, FL, and then, via Waller Field, on Trinidad, BWI; Belem and Natal, Brazil; Dakar, French West Africa; Marrakech, French Morocco; and Valley, Wales; to Rackheath, its 8th AF operating base, near Norwich in Eniland. Our crew landed at Rackheath on 15 March.

The planes were then flown to an AAF Depot for modifications necessary for participating in 8th AF combat operations in England, including navigation, identification, and communication equipment, "coffin" seats for the pilot and copilot, armor plate on the fuselage, outboard of the pilot and copilot, and a "flak suit" for each crew position. During this period, an 8th AF school of highly qualified individuals familiarized the combat crews with the special equipment, aids, operating conditions, and procedures, and the group flew several practice missions. Except for a natural worry about the unknown, the members of our crew felt that the individual, crew, and group training we had received, plus the 8th AF familiarization program, had readied us for what was to come.

The 467th Bomb Group's first combat mission was to Bourges, France, on 10 April. Our crew flew the second mission, on 11 April, to Oscherleben, Germany. We sighted enemy fighters (but received no attacks) and received flak damage (which sounded like pebbles on a tin roof). Our plane's skin had several flak holes and a control cable was cut. (Emergency repairs to the cable were made in flight.)

The 467th Bomb Group flew missions as directed and we flew whenever scheduled in the group's rotation sequence. Our crew flew our 13th mission on 24 May and were then assigned to the 15th AF, as part, of a HQS USAAF plan to combine experiences of the 8th and 15th Air Forces. In addition to our memorable first mission, on 11 April, three other missions that our crew flew as part of the 467th stand out in my memory.

1. On 22 April, instead of the usual early morning takeoff, the group took off at about 16:30 for a mission to Hamm, Germany. We hit, the target at aboul 19:30 (in daylight) and arrived back over England at aboul 22:30, in darkness. In addition to England's total blackout, all airfield lights remained off becaruse German fighters had followed us back and were attacking our planes and bombing our airfields. Our crew landed at Seething (448th Bomb Group) by the light of a burning B-24, stayed overnight as their guests, and returned to Rackheath the next morning.
2. On 9 May, en route to our target at Brunswick, Germany, we had repeated fighter attacks on our tail. I conld see tracers slanting down, beyond the copilot and above the right wing. Fortunately, those fighters were driven off by the group's defensive gunfire and friendly fighters.
3. On the 29 April mission to Berlin, our squadron experienced difficulty holding formation for a short time, whem we ran into contrails at our altitude. Later, the supercharger electronic control for one of our engines failed, and the engineer and I made a temporary repair that enabled us to maintain manifold pressure on all engines. As we approached the target, we were attacked by a line of fighters from 12 o'clock high and I watched (in admiration) as an FW-190 split-essed in front of us. Sgt. Vaughn received credit for assisting in shooting that plane down, and Sgt. Good received credit for downing an ME-109.

Combat Operations In The 15th Air Force

After our crew's thirteenth mission, to Mehur, France on 24 May 1944, we received orders transferring us to the 15th Air Force in Bari, Italy - an effort by Headquarters USAAF to combine the experiences of the 8th and 15th Air Forces. Early on 27 May, we were packed to go. Col. Shower had breakfast with us, wished us the best, and asked me to say hello to one of his classmates who was in the 15th AF. Lt. Charles Grace and a partial crew flew us, in a group B-24, to New Quay in southwest England. An ATC crew flew us in a C-87 (with airline seats) to Casablanca, French Morocco, where another ATC crew was set to fly us in a C-47 (with bucket seats) across North Africa, to Tunis, Tunisia, and to Naples, Italy. With ten of us just sitting in that C-47's waist compartment, we got bored on the first leg of the trip and had our US-born Sgt. Marcarelli and Lt. Rapp (who had just taken a quick course in Italian while recovering from a medical grounding at Herrington) teach us some words and phrases they thought might come in handy in Italy. Later, .just for mischief, one by one each of us slowly moved to the front of the waist compartment. Then, after a ten-minute wait, we all ran back to the tail. A few seconds later, the co-pilot, with an obviously concerned look on his face, opened the cabin door - only to see ten faces grinning at him from the back end of the compartment. A relieved grin came over his face, and for the rest of that flight and the next day's hop to Naples, thirteen of us were on real good terms.

At the Naples airport, l met the Base Weather Officer - a close friend I hadn't seen in four years. Before we could get caught up on each other's activities, the PA systern called our names to report to the passenger counter. An Australian crew had been located to fly us to Bari.

At Bari, I reported in to 15th Air Force Headquarters, and two days later (Saturday, 3 June), a GI driver drove us, in a 2 1/2-ton truck (with wooden-slat seats) to the 98th Bomb Group, located on an Italian Air Force base near Leece, down in the "heel" of Italy. (That ride, with an impatient driver and a series of unhurried Italian farmers, with horse-drawn wagons, on a narrow two-lane highway, was probably the most hair raising and dangerous part, of our combat tour.)

The 98th Bomb Group Headquarters was located in the Italian Air Force base headquarters building. I reported in to the group commander, Col. Marshall R. Gray, who welcomed us and asked that I report back to him after four or five missions with any observations and/or recommendations I might have. Later, our crew members helped me with their suggestions for this task.

One squadron was located in a "castle" on the base, while each of the other three squadrons was located separately around the base. Each squadron had its own operations, supply, administration, mess hall, officers' club, enlisted club, etc. We were assigned to the 344th Bomb Squadron. Our tents (officers in one area and enlisted men in another) were quite close to our squadron's various offices and sections, which were housed in several long, one story, white plaster-covered buildings. The group and its squadrons had been overseas since July of '42, and the permanent-party personnel were friendly and carried out their routine duties efficiently.

Then, on Tuesday, 6 June, our crew was scheduled to fly that day's mission. Briefing was held at Group Hqs and, in general, was similar to, but less formal, than that at Rackheath. The day's target was a refinery at Ploesti, and one of the squadron's top pilots was assigned to our crew as a check pilot. He sat in the co-pilot's seat. I handled ground operations, takeoff, bomb run, and landing, and we worked together on the other, routine, pilot duties.

Approaching the target area, we encountered intense, heavy flak and saw that the target was surrounded by hundreds of smoke streams that rose and merged to form a moving cloud over the target and surrounding areas. Consequently, that was pretty much an area-bombing mission, with no opportunity to observe results. On our return flight we received word that the Allies had invaded Europe, and I felt regret at not being in on that operation. Our first Ploesti mission lasted 8 1/4 hours.

For the next week or two, our crew members were engaged in several discussions concerning the relative "roughness" of 8th Air Force versus 15th Air Force targets. We talked about the frequency of enemy fighters we had encountered on 8th AF missions and they cited the numbers of heavy flak guns at each of their usual 15th AF target areas. At times, the discussion got quite excited, pro and con. During one discussion, I asked if the lead pilots used their auto pilots en route to and from the target and/or on the bomb run. One bombardier stated, "Our pilots do a beiter job than the auto pilot and, because of all the flak we get at our targets, they take evasive action on the bomb run until thirty seconds before bombs away; then, they level off and we hit the target every time." (When I met with the group commander after our fifth mission, you can guess what one of my recommendations was.)

Normally, there was a relaxed atmosphere in the squadron area. Some squadron duties were assigned to combat crew members on mornings when we wouldn't be scheduled for a mission. For leisure times, there were bus runs to Leece, a city of about 60,000. Most of us went to see a Roman amphitheater there that had been partially restored during the Fascist regime. There was an active USO Club in town, and the officers had the former German Air Force Officers Club (which previously had been the Italian Air Force Officers Club), with its three-piece band and female singer. On some afternoons, we could get a Jeep and drive to a beach on the Adriatic Sea for swimming and sunbathing. And, next to the beach, was a large vineyard with lots of delicious grapes. Frequently, in town, there was instrumental music and singing outside houses in the evenings. I remember one street concert where Lt. Rapp, with his "in-depth" Italian proficiency, started talking with an Italian man about the music and music's "universality" and offered him a cigarette. Each of them apparently enjoyed each other's company and that evening's music, conversation, and cigarettes.

Our missions took us to a large number of targets throughout an arc of southern Europe, with targets, such as Cannes, in southern France, on the west; Genoa and Trieste in northern Italy and Munich, in Germany, to the north; and, on the east, Budapest, in Hungary and Ploesti, Bucharest and Constanza (on the Black Sea) in Romania, and a large nrumber of targets throughout Yugoslavia.

On 19 July, we bombed a target in Munich and I checked off Number 36 (toward the required 50-mission total). We weren't scheduled on the next few days, but on 22 July, when Lt. Smith and I woke up, Lts. Rapp and Voss were gone. Operations told us that Lt. Rapp and Sgts. Marcarelli, Bohnenstiehl, Cushing, and Bertalot were in the lead plane with Col. Van Sickle, and Lt. Voss was in the Number 2 plane, with Lt. Guynes, on another Ploesti mission.

When the group returned that afternoon, the lead plane crashed at our base. Lt. Rapp reported that they had been hit over the target - one engine knocked out and another damaged, the regular crew waist gunner's hand was blown off when he threw some chaff out, a fuel tank was punctured, and fuel and hydraulic lines were cut off. Crew members had reported that the Number 2 plane (with Lt. Voss) was hit over the target and went, down and that several parachutes had been seen. On the way back, first aid was administered to the waist gunner, aircraft damage was checked, and Sgt. Marcarelli monitored the fuel situation and transferred the remaining fuel to minimize loss.

As they approached the field, Sgts. Marcarelli and Cushing cranked the main gear down; then, Marcarelli kicked the nose gear out, moved to the bomb bay entrance, and exchanged the AOK signal with Cushing, in the waist. On their landing approach, they ran out of fuel and the nose dropped. The nose gear hit, a stone wall at the edge of the base, tore off, and flew back, hitting Marcarelli in the bomb bay and killing him. The plane ended up on the runway; there was no fire or explosion; the injured man was assisted away from the plane; and, except for some bumps and bruises, the other crew members were all OK.

A few days later, the remaining eight members of our crew served as pall bearers for our highly-regarded T/Sgt. Louis J. Marcarelli, and were then sent to a Red Cross Rest Camp for a short period. On 31 July, we flew a 7 1/2 hour mission to Tarsavista (nation unknown).

The following day I was writing letters in the Officers Club when the Operations clerk came rushing in and said, "Lt. Voss is down at the flight line." The two of us rushed down to the flight line, where people were milling around a bunch of 98th combat crew members who had been lost on bombing missions to Romania dating back to 1 August 1943. And, there was our Bill Voss. He looked very happy and he started smiling when he saw us. The rest of our crew was there and we all threw questions at him: "What, happened when you were slot down? How did you get out of the POW camp? When did you get out?" The ex-POWs and the rest of us were all talking and laughing and questions and answers were going back and forth.

Bill said they got hit in the wing and he knew it was bad. The pilot immediately rang the bell and told them to bail out. Bill said that, all our practicing really paid off - get the chute and hook it on, pull the two red nose-wheel door handles, and go out. But, it seemed too quick, and he checked: chute, door handles, and started to go out, but got stuck in the opening. The navigator kicked him out and came out after him. He waited to pull his ripcord, and after the chute opened, he got scared because everything was so quiet and it seemed he wasn't going down. He landed in a dry stream bed and was immediately picked up by the military.

Of course, we all wanted to know how they got out of the POW camp and back here. He said that a colonel, the senior POW, had told them he had a plan worked out that would get them all out. Bill and others figured that was just a story to keep morale up. But, one day, a lot of P-38s and P-51s appeared and kept flying over the area. Senior POWs told them to move to the nearby military airport, and pretty soon they saw a formation of B-17s flying toward them. One B-17 came down and landed, and twenty POWs ran out and into the B-17, which took off and headed west. As each of the other B-17s landed, twenty POWs ran out and and into it, and it took off. All of the POWs were brought out of the camp, including some British military. The B-17s flew to Bari and the POWs went through a processing - delousing, medical exam, debriefing, uniform items, and lots of good food; and today, those ex-POWs were flown to their old organizations.

Bill also said the senior POW had talked a Romanian pilot into flying him to Bari. And, after they landed, he went to 15th Air Force Headquarters and laid out his plan. They bought it, and it worked. We asked about conditions in the camp, and Bill said it was a POW camp - bare minimums, with rats, lice, etc. Usually, their food was potato soup (with few potatoes). But, he said, that's all the guards had, too. Bill lost forty pounds in the forty days he'd been a POW. He assumed he'd have to finish his missions, but we learned that ex-POWs were not allowed to fly missions in the same theater.

Because our crew had been used as fill-ins for other crews, seven of them needed only three missions to complete their fifty missions. Operations scheduled us to fly those last three missions, with bombardier and gunner fill-ins, and the eight members of my crew went home together early in September. Operations then assigned another crew (whose pilot had been hospitalized) to me. And we would finish our tours together.

Combat Tour Finale

After my original crew left for the states, the navigator from another crew (near the end of his tour) and I learned that Operations had assigned us to a crew whose pilot and navigator had been hospitalized. I think each of its wondered how this patched-together crew would work out for the five missions that we each needed to complete our tour. The first mission, to Genoa on 14 August, was fairly routine, except for the noticeable greeting we received from the numerous heavy flak guns around Italy's largest and busiest port. But, we worked well together and the planes in our formation all returned to Lecce. We took the next four missions in stride, although our final mission to Munich on 12 September caused us to worry that all of its several hundred flak guns would zero in on our plane. But, we made it back to Lecce with all our planes - again - and our combat tour was over!

On 15 September, two group planes with partial crews (another crew and ours) were ordered to fly to Cairo, Egypt. After combat missions, flying across the Mediterranean without any worries about flak and fighters was a very pleasant experience. Upon landing at Cairo, we learned that crews from other 15th Air Force B-24 groups would arrive later that day and we were to carry several hundred Allied airmen, recently released from Bulgarion POW camps, to 15th Air Force Headquarters in Bari. That afternoon, we had an opportunity to meet some of the ex-POWs and we formd several squadron friends who had been lost on combat missions. We brought, them up to date on squadron events and they told us about the conditions in Bulgaria POW camps (poor) and the treatment, they had experienced (bad).

We, were notified we'd be there through the next day, while the ex-POWs were being processed. Our crew made reservations at a hotel in Cairo and lured a guide for sightseeing in Cairo's crowded, bustling streets. (He guided us to his merchant friends to view souvenirs.) That, evening we went to Groppi's, a nightclub that squadron old-timers had recommended most highly, based upon their experiences as "Groppi Grenadiers" while the group was in the Cairo area in late '42 and early '43, supporting the British 8th Army. We were seated at a table next. to the dance floor, well positioned to enjoy the music, the dancers, and later the floor show.

Well into the evening, the musicians stopped playing and all dancers left the dance floor, which was then hydraulically raised two feet to become a stage for the floor show. There were some very accomplished performers; but I remember only two of the acts:

1. The belly dancer who gave a voluptuous, planetary synchromesh performance (before that concept was developed for our American automobiles), and
2. A man and his small son placed a small rectangular surface table about thirty inches high on the dance floor. The man laid back on the table, with his feet at the table's edge; the boy came to the table, the man put his feet under the boy's shoulders, flipped him up in the air, and spun him every which way for several minutes before catching him on his feet and then lowering him to the floor. I think those were the best floor show acts I have ever seen. Unfortunately, we weren't at Cairo long enough to really become "Groppi Grenadiers".

The next day, we had a taxi take us from the city to a parking lot near the Pyramids where we mounted horses for a short ride to the Great Pyramid (that was my first horseback ride, and I didn't enjoy the jolting ride.) After looking at souvenirs offered by sellers, we entered the pyramid and went down a low, narrow passageway for a short distance and then up a long steep slope to a large room (supposedly) at the center of the pyramid. Of course, the mununies and all the items that had been placed there for them to use in the next world had long ago been carried away by robbers. We Went back down and out of the pyramid and walked a short distance to the Sphinx, which was very large, unique. and greatly damaged by time and vandals.

We returned to the parking, lot (and this time, I rode on a camel, which I found much more comfortable) and then to a hotel in the city for some rest and relaxation. The next day's flight to Bari, with approximately twenty happy ex-POWs in the waist and on the flight deck, was uneventful, as was our return flight to Lecce that afternoon.

We had a short stay at Lecce for administrative processing and for taking leave from friends of the past four months; I'd meet a few again - on military bases, at reunions, or through mutual friends back home. Then approximately twenty of us received orders sending us back to the States; we traveled to a replacement depot at Naples, where we waited for a week for surface transportation home. While there, Lt. Diette, our navigator, had a visit from his brother, a 5th Army GI who managed to be in the Naples area at that time. Finally, a bulletin board notice informed us that we'd leave the next day. Then, final packing; our last night in Italy; and the next morning, we had breakfast, boarded trucks to the pier and the Army transport that would take us to the Norfolk, VA area. On board, the sleeping accommodations were "different" - bunks, stacked five high, head to head and feet to feet; dining was simplified with waist-high steel dining surfaces and two meals each day. But then, another replacement depot, where we received a delicious turkey dinner, a sumptuous breakfast, and orders sending each of us to our homes for thirty-day leave and then to a Redistribution Center. And then, We Were Home!

Time passed and life went on for us - as individuals. Some of us corresponded - at least for events such as weddings, Christmas, career relocations. And I continued flying airplanes in the Army/Air Force, including a 1946-1948 tour with Military Government in Korea, where I met Lucile Harshman, an attractive Red Cross Hospital Service girl. (At one time in our two-year courtship, she told me her family had a genealogy book tracing their ancestors back to Germany.) After a year we were engaged, and a year later, with a bit of luck, we returned to the States on the same Army transport. At San Francisco, she went to her home in Indianapolis, while I checked in at Mather AFB for flying time, and then flew to Indianapolis to meet her family. Then, she accompanied me to Worcester, met my mother and sisters, went to Washington to check out at Red Cross Headquarters, and flew back to Indianapolis to arrange our wedding. (My father had been with me in Seoul the previous six months. Officially, he was the American Advisor to the Seoul Fire Department, but Lucile still thinks he was there to check up on her.)

When wedding announcements were sent out, the bombardier on my second crew wrote to congratulate me and to say that the Harshman name had rung a bell with his folks, and when they checked their genealogy book, they found that he and Lucile were related. And we've lived, reasonably happily, ever after.

Jack Stevens. 8th and 15th Air Forces. The Journal 2nd Air Division. Volume 44 Number 1, 2, & 3, Spring, Summer, & Fall 2005.

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