The missions varied from short ones across the English Channel to long ones deep inside
Germany. We were unaware of how the 8th Air Force allocated the daily target. We imagined General Doolittle throwing darts at a large map of Nazi occupied Europe. Wherever the dart landed was our
target for the day. Our Squadron received a mission alert on the evening of April 20, 1944, creating speculation as to where the dart had landed. Later at briefing I remember we were relieved
that the mission was a short one, an enemy submarine base across the English Channel. Everyone cheered when the target was announced. Our two previous missions were Oranienburg, near Berlin, and Kassel,
Germany. We never saw the Luftwaffe on these long missions, but we did see plenty of flak.
After briefing we left for supply to check out our flight gear. Outside we found the weather
cold, damp and foggy. This was the same kind of weather that caused our two previous missions to be recalled on April 12 and April 13.
With our flight bag full of flight gear and some
personal items, we climbed aboard a waiting truck and rode off to the hardstand where our plane was parked. The crew chief and Capt. Lincoln appeared to be having trouble communicating with each other because of
the noise of the auxiliary power unit charging the plane's batteries. We crawled out of the truck and walked to the plane dragging our flight bag made heavy by the flak suite and helmet. Here, we were
informed by Capt. Lincoln that Lt. Goldfeder was ill and replaced by Lt. Frederick H. Brown II as bombardier.
Soon the engines began to startup, one by one, coughing and sputtering until the pilot
had them tuned to one sound. After the warm-up tests were completed, I was notified to prepare for take off. I moved to the radio room and sat on the floor. The squeal of the brakes, the sound of the
four engines propellers changing pitch and the acceleration of the engines up and down was a familiar sound as we moved to our place for take off. The engine noise accelerated louder and louder. Then the
brakes were released and we sped down the runway with our heavy bomb load rising slowly into the foggy sky.
I was at my position in the tail compartment searching the dense fog for other planes in
our vicinity when all of a sudden the plane nosed downward making an awful vibration noise along with a deafening roar from the four engines. I tried to reach for my parachute but found I could not move. I
was glued to the top of the tail compartment. For a second I felt there was no escape. Then the plane began to regain level flight. We had pulled out of the dive. Capt. Lincoln's voice informed
us what had happened. We almost hit another plane head on. A few minutes later another voice was on the intercom. The radio operator, Denemy, said in a calm manner, "Capt. Lincoln, you know the
bombs are gone. Three went through the right side of the bomb bay and the other two are piled up on the other side with the arming vane off the bottom bomb." I knew that the arming pin at the end of the
bomb was now able to move forward and detonate the bomb if there was enough of a force to cause the movement.
It appeared to me at the moment that the only prudent thing to do now was to evacuate
the plane fast. A sudden shake of the plane by rough air might be enough to jar the arming pin forward. So anticipating the command to "bail out", I reached for my parachute. However, before
I could fasten it to my harness, Capt. Lincoln's voice came on the intercom saying, "Marco, you're the armorer on this crew. Get up here and help the bombardier get rid of these bombs!"
I crawled out of the tail area to the waist where Ed Schwartz and Gene Snodgrass were recovering from the accident. They had taken a bad tumble from the mishap and were picking up their
ammunition. I asked Ed "Where are we?" He said, "I don't know." Gene said, "I don't know where we are either. I doubt if we have reached the channel
yet." I walked into the radio room where Denemy was cleaning up the mess at his station. His ammunition was out of their container and on the floor.
The bombardier and I
arrived in the radio room at the same time from opposite directions. I felt the plane descending in its attempt to find a place under the clouds where there was more visibility. Occasionally the plane dropped,
tilting slightly to one side. Capt. Lincoln adjusted the controls to bring the plane back to a level flight. Would the next bump be the one to detonate the bomb?
Lt. Brown looked at the
bombs again as he had just walked over them passing through the bomb bay to the radio room. He noticed the damage to the plane and that the bottom bomb was still fastened to the bomb shackle at one end. He
confirmed Denemy's report of the two five hundred pound bombs resting on the floor of the bomb bay and described the plane damage in the bomb bay. There was a hole in the right bottom side and a large bulge in the
top area of the bomb bay. The safety wire was out of the pin and the bomb was ready to explode if the pin went forward by a sudden jolt.
Lt. Brown gave instructions for me to hold his legs
while he hung upside down into the bomb bay reaching for the bomb shackle that held the bottom bomb. When grasping the shackle, he found that he couldn't remove it from the rack because of the position of the
bomb. Suddenly the plane dropped when entering another air pocket. The wings rocked up and down causing the bombs to move slightly to a new position. Lt. Brown grasped the arming pin with one hand and
with the other unhooked the shackle, freeing the bombs from their entanglement. He said, "Open the bomb bay quick." I relayed the instructions to the radio operator next to me who in turn passed
the message to the navigator on the intercom. The electrically actuated doors began to open with a whining noise; the plane began to vibrate as the bombs tumbled safely out. Pulling the bombardier out of the
bomb bay, I found I could breathe again.
We couldn't see a thing below but fog. Where did the bombs land? I wondered if they exploded in a populated area causing death and
destruction. To save ourselves, did we injure, kill or cause destruction to our ally below? Should we have tried to fly out over the channel to drop the remaining bombs?
The pilot
landed our damaged Flying Fortress and reported the mishap. With a great deal of relief, we were informed that our bombs did not injure anyone or cause any major property damage. The first three bombs landed
in a mortar range and other two landed near our base.
