Hang Right Politics

Posted by Big Mo on May 28th, 2007 in Heroes

Nearly three years ago, my extended family laid a hero to rest: Charlie Blackwell, the oldest of the four Blackwell boys (my wife’s grandfather, Lynn, was #2).

I had never heard the full story of the time Charlie was shot down over France until the day of his wake. Here it is, as Charlie himself told it to Lt. Col. Ronald Byers, USAAF (ret.) who wrote the book Flak Dodger: A Story of the 457th Bomb Group (H) During World War II. The 14 June 1944 mission was aimed at German airfields and other targets. Their aircraft was the B-17G Flying Fortress (the “G” version being the last and most numerous version). Most likely this mission was aimed at helping to isolate the German forces fighting the week-old invasion in Normandy. This is the account on pages 167-173. The first part relays the mission particulars and the story of a Silver Star winner. Next are the list of the crews of the aircraft that did not return, which I omit. The remainder is Charlie’s story:

14 June 1944 – La Bourget/Melum. One thousand three hundred and fourteen heavy bombers of the 8th AAF bombed selected targets in France including 16 airfields and other tactical targets. The 8th AAF lost 14 heavy bombers, most of which were lost as a result of having been hit by flak.

The 457th furnished five 12-ship boxes on this mission, a maximum effort. [Note: A “box” was a formation of four or so aircraft.] Bombing results of this mission were fair.

The flak was intense and accurate and was responsible for the loss of five aircraft.

Major Raymond A. Syptak, flying as air commander of a lead aircraft, was awarded the Silver Star for his part in bringing the heavily damaged lead aircraft back to base.

The lead aircraft was damaged by German fighter 20mm fire which knocked out one engine and damaged a second as the Squadron approached the IP [Note: I don’t know this term].

However, Lt. William L. Gibbons, the lead pilot, maintained the lead position through the bomb run. Over the target flak further damaged the aircraft, causing damage to the control system and oxygen system. A fire also started burning in the A/C [the aircraft].

Lt. Gibbons set the automatic pilot, hit the bail-out button, and bailed out. Major Syptak also attempted to bail out but was unable to do so. He was unable to open the escape hatch in the nose.

Syptak returned to the flight deck to find the engineer had put out the fire and he flew the A/C back to base. …

…Lt. Charles Blackwell, pilot of an A/C shot down at La Bourget A/F [airfield], relates the following story 40 years later:

“It was my 29th mission and 28th for the others in the crew. I had flown my first mission as co-pilot with Lt. Al Fischer on the 457th B.G. to Berlin on 3 March 1944.

“Our target was La Bourget A/F in Paris. I’m not sure why, but we circled and went up-wind at the target. We had a strong headwind and our ground speed was only about 80 knots and we were really ‘clobbered’ by the intense and accurate flak.

“We were hit by a burst of flak and we lost three engines, only one of which could we get feathered. There was gasoline running all over the flight deck and I was really worried about fire. Two engines were ‘running away’ and the whole thing gave me a weird feeling. We rode the airplane down to about 3,000 feet where we flew into some clouds and I decided this would be a good time to ‘hit the silk.’

“I set the autopilot, hit the bail-out button, and we all jumped. The airplane evidently made a big circle for Lt. Baskette, the co-pilot, said it came back and he thought the airplane was going to fly right into his ‘chute.

“I landed in a tree and it took some time for me to ‘shinny’ down and to also pull the ‘chute down. Some French people found me before the Germans did and I stayed with a group of Free French for some period of time. Those ‘French underground’ people really would get ‘frisky’ at night – blowing up bridges, and shooting Krauts. One day they learned that some Kraut soldiers were coming around looking for shot-down American flyers. We had been living in and old barn and we hid in a nearby ditch. The French gave me two hand grenades and an old double barrel shotgun. Thank goodness the Krauts did not find us. Nothing happened, but I decided to travel west with another downed flyer, a Polish pilot who had been flying with the R.A.F. [the Royal Air Force].

“We had been given civilian clothing and we walked west toward the American lines for two days. One night we slept in the haw-mow of an old bar. In the morning a ‘Frenchie’ with a bunch of cherries in hand came to the barn and motioned for us to follow him. He took us to the small town of Blonville. There he introduced us to a French woman by the name of Mme. Jane Vaillant, who took us into her house and hid us for about five weeks, until we were liberated by the American soldiers.”

Charlie’s recorded story ends there. But I’ve heard more of it. A friend of Charlie’s said that, years later, Charlie went back to France to meet that “madam.” And I heard of a more dramatic ending to the story:

The Blackwells had been notified by the War Department that Charlie was missing in action. And when Charlie finally got back to American lines, he discovered he was near a familiar unit, the 149th combat engineers. Sure enough, he walked over to a certain sergeant of engineers, tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Hi, Lynn.”

Imagine that reunion!

Lynn himself had harrowing stories. The 149th was in the second wave at Omaha Beach. He was extremely reluctant to talk about that day—or much else from the war, for that matter. But he did relate that when he stepped off the landing craft, he sank to the bottom. He never knew how he got ashore. We also never knew until after his death that he was cited for saving several lives that day.

Lynn once showed us a picture of his unit taken in March 1944. If you hold this picture to the light, you see that Lynn poked holes through the chests of several men, so light shines through the photo. Every man with a hole in his picture was cut down on D-Day. If I remember right, a third of his unit was killed.

Such men NEVER consider themselves “heroes.” Which is fine, because it makes them even greater heroes in our eyes.

But the words “thank you” can never be said enough, so the best thing that someone like me can do, who has not had the privilege of wearing the uniform, is to be a good citizen and never take this country for granted—or take advantage of this country.