Update - shot down over Varese

On October 31 I posted a note (Distant rumblings) about our very block in Varese being bombed by the U.S. Army Air Corps during World War II. I mentioned that one plane was lost on April 25, with it's "All American" crew, who probably considered it a "milk run."

After more research, I found this memoir from Gunner "Del" (at least according to the Germans who created his POW ID card) Kenyon. And yes, they thought it was a milk run. . . Check out his journal at http://www.geocities.com/vmken/450thBG.html.

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30th Mission

My 30th bombing mission was my longest, one year and five days. Damn, what an exciting flight that was! Target, Varese, Aircraft Factory, Milk Run. "No fighters, no flack. Just drop your bombs and fly home." Of course, I knew they were joking. Take off time April 25, 1944, 09:02.

"Pilot to crew", is what I heard. "We're going to take a ride in this big ass bird." So, we're cruising along about 180 mph at 18,000 feet. About an hour from target I lowered the ball turret and climbed in. That's when everything went to hell. I heard the pilot scream "Fighters 12 o'clock!" Then we were hit real bad. Sounded like someone hit us with about a 100 feet of heavy chain. I looked out to my left and saw someone sail by my turret. I thought to myself, I sure hope I don't know who that was. (I did know... it was the co-pilot with his leg shot off below the right knee) I got out of the turret and opened the door to the bomb bay. Looking toward the flight deck through a red mist I saw the sitting on the catwalk ready to jump. The red mist came from all the blood that was leaking out of him. One of his arms was all shot up and I thought I saw some holes in him. Made me real nervous as I knew that bullet holes allow the soul to escape. I went back to the waist and told the waist gunners to open the camera hatch and get out. I put on my chest chute and headed for the camera hatch that's on the floor in the back.

The tail gunner was almost to the hatch facing me, when that big ass bird went up on its right wing in a hard right turn, throwing me to the floor on my face. I was struck by centrifugal force --couldn't even get on my knees. The tail gunner fell on his back and I could hear him screaming. He was stuck as bad as I was. I thought this is it. I'm going down with this damned thing.

By really stretching I managed to get a couple of fingers hooked to the lip of the hatch and slid out. I was off oxygen too long and woke up tumbling backwards and I didn't remember to pull my ripcord to open my chute. I was all curled up and my mind told me that I was stuck up there. I glanced down and saw this shiny thing on my chest then I remembered that's what opened the chute. I yanked on it and the chute opened. With a 28-foot chute and being pretty light, I didn't know if I was going up or down having nothing to Judge movement by. I really thought I'd be up there for the rest of the day.

Looking down, I could see three trucks coming along a road full of men. When they stopped some of them jumped out and started to shoot at me. I could hear the bullets buzzing by me. Poor shots --lucky for me.

I was on a hillside about a mile above them. I buried my chute with one dog tag, then took off up the hill and headed for some brush and trees hoping to hide out until dark. It didn't get dark and it wasn't long before a guy came up to where I was hiding and put an automatic rifle to my head. Geez, this is the end for good old AWK (Adelbert W. "Del" Kenyon)! I don't know who was shaking the most, him or me. He probably thought I was armed, I wasn't. More men showed up and slapped me around some then drug me down the hill. Some of the other crewmembers had also been rounded up. Don't know why they were so upset we weren't going to bomb them. I guess they were sore at us for bombing their factories, airfields and everything else.

A little later they turned us over to the Germans. We ended up at Verona and we were put in solitaire for three to four days and interrogated. After a long train ride we ended up at Stalag Luft III and I became Kriegsgefangenen (prisoners of war) 4213.