For all the deaths we saw during WW II, now and then, as with Capt. Classen and his crew, someone survived against all odds.
The attack
The Japanese, when they would attack us, would climb above us. Say, we were at 23,000 feet, they'd climb to 25,000 feet, then push the nose of the fighter aircraft down and dive at our formation, which was usually 5 or more B17s flying in a V. Increasing its speed, the fighter dives straight down, shooting at one aircraft in the formation.
What we think happened in this case was, as the fighter was shooting, one of his projectiles hit and probably killed the pilot of the aircraft. Because that B17, instead of staying in formation, started moving to the left, which put him in the middle of the V formation. And this fighter comes down and goes through that V, and they collide. The fighter hit the B17 just behind the wing of the aircraft and exploded and broke the B17 in half.
The front of the aircraft started spinning down, and everybody in the formation is looking at that piece of the aircraft to see if anybody bailed out of it. They saw nobody. They just saw it spin down, until they'd flown past the area.
Bailing out
However, the tail gunner, who was in the tail of the B17, in a very cramped area, had his parachute, not on and buckled, but just in back of him, which would be the front of the aircraft--only now was nothing except air space. So he's quickly putting on his harness, he gets one leg strap fastened, he gets the chest strap fastened, but he can't find the right leg strap. And the tail of this B17 is spinning down towards the water, and he knows he'd better get the hell out of there while he can, because if he doesn't, he'd be hitting that water.
So he went out that hole in back of him, and as soon as he got out, he pulled the rip cord. The shock of that parachute opening twisted his back, and he doesn't remember this, but he went unconscious. So he's hanging in his parachute unconscious, and he knows nothing more about this.
Rescued
He woke up, lying on the his belly on the sand on a beach, his head turned toward the side. He opened his eyes, and he saw black legs and feet. He tried to move, but lost consciousness again.
Time went by, and again he opened his eyes and saw legs and feet. Gradually he went from unconsciousness to consciousness, and when he could move his head, these natives signaled him to follow them. They didn't touch him.
Their village was right in the cocoanut groves, near the beach. He crawled to their village, and they took him to a little grass shack, and he crawled into it. They had a bed there made of palm fronds and other materials, and he crawled into it and lay there. They brought him food and water. The food was some kind of stew, and it was pretty good.
So he gradually became more and more able to move around. He had his Baedeker's Guide for the Castaway, which had some words in pidgin English--a combination of English and native languages which the natives had learned because of the long time periods that the British had been in these islands establishing cocoanut groves. So he asked what he was eating.
In the evening they showed him. They pointed up at some fruit bats that were flying low underneath the cocoanut trees to feed on them, and the natives would throw rocks at them. The wingspan of these bats was about, oh, a good three feet. They would hit the wing and break the bone, and down would come the bat. They would then prepare it, and that was what he was eating.
Back from the dead
There was a coast watcher who had managed that cocoanut grove and knew everything about the area. He had a radio for communication with our forces, and any boats, any airplanes he saw, he would report. So the coast watcher reported that he had an American crew member there. Eventually they sent a submarine there, and he was picked up and brought back to Guadalcanal and left off, and he went to our area.
So here he comes with his parachute in his arms. We've been on a mission and nobody's flying, so we're in our tents, and somebody sees him: "Who's that guy?" We didn't have people come to our area unless they belonged there.
They kept looking: "Is that ole Bill?"* "No, that's not ole Bill." "Well, it sure looks like him." And sure enough, it was Bill. We couldn't believe it because we all knew that Bill was dead, along with the rest of the crew members. So we all came out and welcomed him, amazed at the miracle that had happened. He went to the hospital, where the medics checked him over, and of course he'd lost lots of weight. Eventually he went back to the States.
*I don't remember his actual name. If you are this gunner, or know who he was, let me know!
This is a story Dad told when I interviewed him at the Grand Central StoryCorp booth,
May 5, 2004.
--Kathryn Paulsen
http://storycorps.org/
No comments:
Post a Comment