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Life and Death in the Air: A Bombing Run Goes Bad By Sgt. Vachel L. Blair, Cleveland, Ohio
Captain Jack Taylor next to his B-24 bomber, notice its female logo and successful strike count, as well as Cpt Taylor's relaxed demeanor, cigarette and loafers. photo: V. Blair or intelligence officer colleague
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Second Lieutenant John A. Taylor, of the 98th Bomb Group, has just completed his Airmedal Mission [perhaps his 25th]. It was a full day for the pilot of the “Buzzin' Two Duzzin’.” Here’s what happened:
Lt. Taylor was flying number four position [in a formation of 10 to 30 planes] over one of those Brenner Pass Bridges [in the Italian Alps], that’s hot even at 40 below. Just after “bombs away,” he saw a direct hit by flak blast off the whole tail assembly of the lead ship. Dodging debris and at the same time losing his number two engine to flak, he saw something make a six-inch hole in the right windshield. Nobody was hurt.
While he was trying to feather his No. 2 prop, No. 1 and No. 4 ran intermittently. The plane dropped out of formation while he tried to make them behave. He gave instructions for the gas to be shut off from the shot-out No. 2 but, in the excitement, fuel was cut from No. 1, which didn’t help much to speak of. By that time, the plane was losing altitude at a phenomenal rate. Lt. Taylor decided there was only one obvious move to make: he rang the bell and the boys hit the nylon [parachutes].
Before everyone took off from the flight deck, however, a little technical problem came to Lt. Taylor’s attention: He had eyes on his chute and his harness, too, but he seemed to be missing a snap in there somewhere. Someone had taken the wrong chute, and left his own snap-type job in another part of the ship.
One of the boys went back and found his back pack, tossed it up on the flight deck, and suddenly Lt. Taylor was alone in the rumbling old war bird with bomb-bay doors, nose-wheel doors, and hatches open for inspection.
B-24 Liberator bombers, similar to the ones that flew from south of Venice to the Battle of Brenner Pass, here heading to Germany from England.
At about 4,000 feet and still going down, he slipped out of the pilot’s seat to try out the chute for size and found it too small to buckle the leg straps. While he was thus occupied the plane, with auto-pilot out, couldn’t resist a temptation to pull up into a stall. Lt. Taylor moved to catch the controls but his misfit parachute harness, which was too short to buckle, was long enough to catch on one of the goddamn radio knobs.
As if to confound all plans of destiny, he reached out with one hand and jammed the wheel forward, for a dive to regain flying speed. The plane dropped like an elevator with cables cut. About this time Lt. Taylor figured he could use a three-day rest leave at Capri pretty handily. Somehow he managed to disengage his chute and pull the ornery warhorse out at 200 feet, leveling at 330, with one windmilling [busted] prop.
That taken care of, and not without a certain amount of relief, he began to look around for a likely spot to set her down. He spotted a field. While he was making his pattern [circling to finding a landing strategy], he found that No. 1 and No. 4 prop governors began to respond, at that warmer lower altitude.
“Things were going so well by that time—relatively, that is—I decided to head for home and see how far I could get.” He turned the gas back on to No.1 to see if it would run better; that gave him three good engines and one unfeatherable prop. With these improved living conditions, he pounded down "the hill" toward Venice, flying at fence-top height for fighter protection.
Vachel Blair told me that the Air Corps was very democratic: You could argue your way out of flight assignments and, after taking off, the crew essentially voted whether to do the mission. If they decided to turn back—because of faulty machinery or the vote—they would drop their bombs in the Mediterranean (you can't land loaded), but sometimes one remained and killed them. photo: V. Blair or intelligence officer colleague
“I could see the ‘Ities’ [Italians] scurrying for ditches in every direction,” he said. “Every once in a while, I’d pull her up to 50 ft., twist her around a bit, so I could see if any fighters were on my tail, and then let her back down.”
As the picturesque city of canals and gondolas came up, he swung around town to avoid the flak without noticing St. Marks Cathedral, the great Renaissance masterpiece. He did give Venice harbor a 50 ft. inspection, however.
“I was afraid the subs in port there would 'up' [their antiaircraft guns] on me, but they didn’t. All the flack I got from the area was way above the plane.”
Once out on the Adriatic at 10 ft, with the bracing salt air coming in the nose-wheel door, Lt. Taylor thought it about time he took over the radio operator’s portfolio. He dialed “Big Fence,” “Green G-George, please give me a heading for Ancona or the nearest emergency field.”
“Green G-George,” came the reply, “Steer 225 degree.”
That heading didn’t look quite right to Lt. Taylor. “And besides,” he added, “That word ‘steer’ sounded phony. I called for identification and they didn’t say a word. Then I really cussed them out. I said, ‘You dirty —.’”
Anyhow, he really cussed them out with vernacular reserved for such emergencies. He gained altitude a little after he had come down the Adriatic a safe distance. Within sight of land, he contacted the real “Big Fence,” located the field, made his pattern and lowered his [landing] gear without trouble.
Air Corps mechanics working away on a 'war bird' named Raunchy, who is an actual dragon. photo: V. Blair or intelligence officer colleague
“From my seat I couldn’t tell whether everything was locked, but by that time I wasn’t worrying much.” As it turned out, everything was locked when he eased the big bird in on a good landing. Destiny gave him a break.
A truck came out to pick up the crew. “Where is everyone,” the driver asked.
“I’m it,” said Lt. Taylor, “There ain’t no more.” Well, what the hell, that’s enough to make anyone’s eyeballs drop out.
Now that we see it can be done, the streamlined “Taylor System” of manning Liberator [B-24] Bombers might be widely adopted. Lt. Taylor may do for heavy bomb groups what Henry Kaiser did for shipbuilding. Who said there isn’t efficiency in the army?
NOTE: From November 6, 1944 to April 25, 1945 United States Army Air Corp flew 6,849 sorties B-25s and B-29s in the "Battle of the Brenner". Posted on Jun 11, 2023 - 10:23 PM