The Few, The Proud

Recently, a Marine Corps recruiter drove Jodi Carson, Gordon McWilliams, Kevin Walton and me from Greensboro to Raleigh where we joined 31 others whom the Marine Corps refer to as “Influencers.”  

Teacher, Guidance Counselor, Deputy Sherrif and Media guy turn
themselves over to Marine Corps for one week.

In recruiter speak, we would leave “stupid early” the next morning for an Educator Workshop aboard  Marine Corps Recruit Training Depot, Parris Island, SC.

Carson and McWilliams are employees of Asheboro High School – she is a guidance counselor, he is a teacher.  Walton is a Randolph County Deputy Sheriff.  I was a media guy.  

Conversations during the drive to Raleigh indicated the four travelers had watched sufficient Educator Workshop U-Tube videos to know what we were getting into.  

In fact, even Jodi Carson’s principal knew what we were getting into, “He tried sounding like a drill instructor for the past couple days to break me in,” she explained.

Jodi Carson, Guidance Counselor @ Asheboro High School gets her
Parris Island recruit ID card photo made.

Carson and I were drawn together quickly.  Perhaps it was because she played soccer and basketball at Eastern Guilford High School.  Or maybe it was because she taught English and coached JV softball and soccer at Southern Guilford High School prior to her work in Asheboro.  (She is a University of North Carolina Greensboro graduate with a master’s degree from Appalachian State University.)  

Perhaps it was because I told her I was a Marine and had been through recruit training at Parris Island exactly 60 years ago.

Whatever the bond, it was sealed by her discreet, “I’ll never tell” thumbs-up to me when the Recruiter/Driver casually announced, “Former Marines are not typically invited to these events.”  

Fair disclosure: I returned home on Wednesday evening of the Workshop.

According to our invite from Commanding General Terry V. Williams, “Your visit to Parris Island will allow you to get a small glimpse into what it takes to become a U.S. Marine.  We will introduce you to Marine Corps history, occupational and educational opportunities, weapons safety and marksmanship, physical and basic warrior training – you will walk away with a better understanding of the process we call transformation and your Marine Corps.”

General Terry Williams, Parris Island Commanding Officer tells
Influencers,"this is your Marine Corps -- pull back the curtain and
see how we make Mariens."

If “walk away,” was General Williams’ attempt at irony, it worked well.  

Thanks to highly motivational drill instructors assigned to watch over us, most of the week was at “double time.”  

Parris Island Senior Drill Instructor and two Junior Drill
Instructors stand ready to take over their new charges.

Whereas the general’s comments were clear and forthright, his drill instructors were demonstrably clear and forthright.  As in, “GET OFF MY BUS – FAST – NOW – MOVE IT – WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME?”

The drill instructors seemed collectively hard of hearing.  We kept yelling, “Aye Aye, Sir,” and they kept responding, “I can’t hear you!”

SGT MAJ Jim Lanham welcomes Harry Thetford to Parris Island.
Sixty years makes a powerful difference in the welcome!

The week was a blur of firing the M-16, squad bay tour, water survival brief, martial arts demo, gas chamber, pugil sticks and rappelling.  

While some meals were at the officers’ club, more were with recruits.  According to Carson, “It was great to converse and have meals with recruits in their first weeks of boot camp, and with others just days away from graduation.  It was as if the transformation of recruits to Marines was happening right before our eyes.” 

The work-shoppers peeped in on the 54-hour training exercise known as the crucible, which ends with a nine-mile hike, and the four-mile motivational run the day before graduation.  

Other stops included the Parris Island Museum, Marine Corps Exchange and Marine Corps Air Station-Beaufort Flight Line.

The Workshop culminated with graduation exercises on Friday morning.  Several platoons of recruits had completed 13 weeks of blood, sweat and tears.  

They had finally received their eagle, globe and anchor – their personal Marine Corps emblem -- no longer recruits, they were now Marines.

Three months prior, each family had received a scripted telephone call from their recruit -- there would be no further contact between them other than postal, until graduation.  

“Graduation had the most impact on all of us,” recalls Carson.  “Even though not one of us personally knew a Marine who was graduating, it was hard to find a dry eye in our group!”

As for her week at Parris Island, Carson readily admits, “Words cannot describe the feelings one has after experiencing something of this nature.  While the Marine Corps isn’t for everyone, I understand now why those who have the mettle to become Marines are known as the few, the proud!”   

Ol'Harry

 

     

  

Unfortunate Hitch-Hiker

Ninety-one year old Bob Bailey was raised by his Waycross, Georgia, maternal grandparents.  “They saw to it that I was well cared for,” says Bailey.  “They even put up with my love for all things aviation, building model airplanes, taking flying lessons, etc.” 

Ironically, Bailey soloed for the first time on December 7, 1941.

He enlisted in the Army in December, 1942 and was later accepted as an aviation cadet.  During flight training at Brookley Field, Alabama he met Betty Rose Waybright, from nearby Irvington.  They were married on May 15, 1943.   

Bailey became a B-29 pilot and was sent to Tinian Island in the Pacific theater.

“These were the last stages of the war.  From Tinian we were bombing the Japanese homeland relentlessly, hoping they would surrender.  My most graphic memory of World War II was a night bombing raid over Tokyo – the whole earth looked like it was on fire.  Someone suggested the lid had been taken off hell,” recalls Bailey.

Bailey had returned state-side when the atomic bombs were dropped, signaling the end of the war.  

He left active duty with the USAAF but joined the U. S. Army Reserve.  

He was recalled to active duty during the Korean War, this time as an Army aviator.  As an airborne artillery observer, Bailey flew combat missions with the 25^th Division Artillery. 

In 1961, with almost 20 years of service and two wars under his belt, Bailey, now a major, became the Assistant Military Attaché at the American Embassy in Laos.  “I was excited about this assignment.  I could retain my flight status, use the military expertise I had gained, see new parts of the world – and bad guys wouldn’t be shooting at me.” 

He became even more excited about the job as he piloted the American ambassador and embassy personnel over Laos and surrounds, including exotic destinations such as Bangkok and Saigon.

An engine change required Bailey’s Beechcraft L-23 to remain in Saigon for several days.  Returning from Laos to Saigon to pick up his L-23 with new engine, he hitched a ride with an Air Force C-47.  He wasn’t deterred when informed the unarmed C-47 would be flying a secret reconnaissance mission over Communist-held territory.

Per Bailey, “There were six crew members plus one other hitch-hiker and me.  The pilot ordered everyone to don parachutes.  I will always believe the Good Lord told me to choose a back-pack parachute versus the chest-type.  There was only one back-pack parachute (which you leave on at all times) on the aircraft.  Most aviators prefer the chest-type parachute (which you can easily remove in flight).”

Soon the “not getting shot at” part of Bailey’s new assignment literally went up in smoke.  “Our secret recon mission was fired upon by secret enemy anti-aircraft guns.  We were hit, the plane caught on fire.  The pilot ordered everyone to jump.  I was the only one with a parachute already on so I immediately jumped through the side door which had been removed for photographing.”

Bailey was struck by part of the C-47 fuselage as he exited but recovered in time to watch the doomed aircraft’s death spiral downward.  He hoped to see seven parachutes.  There were none.

Given his shoulder and leg injuries, Bailey pondered his safety.  The area into which he was jumping was locked in a three-way civil war – two of the aggressors were less than friendly towards covert American intervention.

The good news of the jump -- he landed safely, rescuers came to his aid, and a modicum of medical attention was given his wounds by his captors.

The bad news – at that moment, Bailey realized he was a prisoner of war.

As the first American prisoner of war in Southeast Asia, Bailey spent the next 17 months in solitary confinement in a small, dismal, unlit cell.  He went from a robust 185 pounds to an emaciated 135 pounds. 

It could have been worse – of the more than 600 Americans captured or unaccounted for in Laos, only 15 escaped or were released.

Fortunate to be one of the 15, Bailey was finally freed and returned home to his wife and three children.  President John F. Kennedy presented him with a bronze star.  He doesn’t remember who presented him his purple heart, but recalls, “There were generals all over the place.”  Colonel Bob Bailey retired in 1970 with 28 years of service.

Of Bailey’s book, SOLITARY SURVIVOR, fellow Georgian, Newt Gingrich writes, “This is a story about uncommon valor, unparalleled courage and untiring personal strength.”

Bob and Betty Bailey reside in Carolina Estates.  They moved to Greensboro to be near their youngest daughter, Elaine, a retired Episcopal priest.  They have two other children, seven grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren. 

There is more to the remarkable story of Betty and Bob Bailey than most people know.  After 23 years of marriage, three children, two wars, the POW notoriety, and a continuing barrage of duty assignments requiring family separations, the Baileys divorced by mutual agreement.

Bob Bailey met and married Mary Jean Jordan, a former high school sweetheart from Waycross, Georgia.  Jordan’s fighter pilot husband had been killed during World War II.  After many years of marriage, Jean passed away in 2000.

Betty and Bob had remained in friendly contact since their divorce.  In 2007, they were remarried -- on May 15, the same date of their first marriage in 1943.

Ol'Harry

THE AIRBORNE: WHEN THE GOING GETS TOUGH, THE TOUGH GET GOING

Bill Lusk never intended his Mullens, WV, banker father to keep him from the draft, even as draft board head.  

To the contrary, Lusk was a rising junior in the accelerated ROTC program at Virginia Tech.  In April, 1943, it was his dad who gave him the not-unexpected news, “You’re going in.”

Bill Lusk, World War II Paratrooper/Glider Soldier

At Camp Mackall, NC, (just south of Southern Pines) Lusk joined the 193rd Glider Infantry Regiment, 17th Airborne Division.  The division moved to Tennessee for maneuvers and war games.

“The weather was terribly cold, lots of rain, sleet and snow,” Lusk recalls.  “One of our assault boats flooded while crossing a rain-swollen river, twelve men drowned.  We were told to keep moving, that’s the way it is in war!”

Early in 1944, the call went out for paratrooper volunteers. Lusk volunteered.  “I liked the self-sufficient, fight-to-survive paratrooper training, plus the $50 pay raise,” exclaimed Lusk.

August, 1944, was a whirlwind for Lusk and the 17th Airborne Division.  Troop-trained to Boston, they sailed for England. “We did glider exercises and maneuvers in England.  I believe the British had a fighter plane hid under every haystack,” reflects Lusk.

December 23, 1944, the entire 17th Airborne Division was air-lifted into France overnight.  “I landed at 2 a.m.  We rode trucks for a while, and walked the rest of Christmas Eve, the snow was 24-30 inches deep.”

Battle of  the Bulge

“During the Battle of the Bulge, we fought near Bastogne for control of Dead Man’s Ridge.”

“I was wounded by an 88mm artillery shell.  It landed right at my feet!  Two of my men were killed and many others were wounded.”  Lusk hallucinated in and out of consciousness, reasoning, “I’m not going to get out of here alive.”

“Resting my head in my helmet, I injected myself with morphine and prayed, Lord, I’m ready to come home!  I was sure that when I woke up, I would be in heaven!”

Providentially, two medics discovered Lusk was still alive as they came by verifying casualties.  “Those brave medics took me by stretcher to a field hospital, where surgeons removed multiple shrapnel fragments.”

Lusk’s surgery was done without anesthetics since all supplies of pain killers had been exhausted.  “They teased me that no rawhide was available, but gave me a piece of rubber to place between my teeth,” per Lusk.

Lusk was moved to France for further treatment and recuperation.  “On March 22, 1945, a jeep came to the hospital with orders for me.”  Taken to the 194th Glider Infantry Regiment, Lusk learned his 193rd Regiment has been so decimated at Dead Man’s Ridge, that survivors had been merged into the 194th.  

First, he learned, “We’re short a platoon sergeant, and you’re it!”   That placed Lusk in charge of three squads, each with twelve airborne infantrymen.

Secondly, Lusk learned they were just hours away from being dropped across the Rhine River into Germany, behind enemy lines.  

World War II Glider

On March 24, 1945, Lusk’s platoon boarded gliders, twelve men per glider.  They weren’t alone – over 900 USAF gliders were loading -- from multiple airfields.  Two gliders ferrying Lusk’s squad landed safely, but the third overshot the landing zone.  All twelve men and the glider pilot were killed by enemy fire.

By 2 p.m. Allied forces were in control, but running out of ammunition.  “Pilots risked their lives to fly low and drop us ammo.  Two planes were shot down and all crewmembers perished.”

Lusk’s platoon was later pinned down by enemy snipers operating from three large stone buildings.  “A British tank crew caught up with us.  I asked them to take the buildings out.  They did, and we moved on!”     

This was the final airborne operation of WW II, the first where glider troops and paratroopers dropped together, and the first where C-47s towed two gliders each.

Lusk came home on furlough after joining the 517th Paratrooper Infantry Regiment for the invasion of Japan.  The atomic bomb altered those plans.  Lusk earned a bronze star, purple heart, combat infantryman’s badge, parachutist badge, three campaign battle stars, invasion arrowhead, glider badge, M-1 expert’s badge and more.  

Lusk married Betty Williams, his childhood sweetheart on September 6, 1945.  After obtaining a B.S. degree in business administration with honors from Virginia Tech in 1947, he worked with Burlington Industries for forty years, retiring as Assistant Corporate Controller.

Bill and Betty Lusk are long-time members of First Baptist Church -- Greensboro, where both have had leadership roles.  They have three grown children and seven grands.  

Accepting thanks for his service, Lusk is appreciative but assertive, “Only by the grace of God am I here!”        

Family Legacies Unite At the Quarterdeck of the Navy

This is the second Guest Blog from my son, an active duty Navy Captain.  He sends periodic emails, entitled the SUPPO Log, to friends and family about his Navy adventures.  Enjoy!

Ol'Harry

SUPPO Log 21 March 2015 - Family Legacies Unite At the Quarterdeck of the Navy

Every so often worlds collide in a surprising way.  Occasionally, paths cross in ways that amaze.  I recently experienced an astonishing coincidence at the Navy Recruit Training Command.


As background, I'm currently attending the Navy Leadership and Ethics Course in Newport, Rhode Island in preparation for an upcoming assignment as a Commanding Officer (CO).  The course includes a trip to Chicago to visit the Navy Recruit Training Command (RTC) so that CO's understand how recruits are turned into Sailors.  And more importantly, to understand that America's parents are entrusting their daughters and sons to your care and leadership.


The first event was dinner with recruits who recently completed the eight week boot camp, and were to graduate the next morning.  We remained spread throughout the mess hall as recruits sat down to eat around us.  Nervously, they answered our questions.  Some even asked a question or two.  This was the first meal in eight weeks at which they were allowed to talk.  And not be rushed to complete.


During the meal, I spotted a shipmate whom I worked with at the Pentagon.  He is now the Commanding Officer of the RTC, and I went to talk with him.  He was surprised to see me, and talked about the job and all the challenges that come with transforming young Americans into Sailors.
He then pointed out a civilian talking with the recruits, and mentioned that she was a school teacher and was there as sponsor of the graduating class.  

He then said something that immediately snapped my mind to attention...she was the granddaughter of one of the five Sullivan Brothers.


For those not aware, the five Sullivan Brothers were from Waterloo, Iowa.  They enlisted in the Navy during World War II, under the condition they could serve together.  Navy agreed despite the rules against this, and they ended up together on board the cruiser USS JUNEAU (CL 52).


Also serving on the JUNEAU was a relative of mine, LCDR John Stuart Blue, who was the ship's Navigator.  It was not surprising LCDR Blue was in the Navy.  His father retired as a Navy Admiral.  The destroyer USS BLUE was named in the Admirals honor, and was the only ship to get underway from Pearl Harbor during the attack.  Early in the Guadalcanal campaign, the USS BLUE was damaged by Japanese torpedoes and scuttled.


The JUNEAU also joined the fight off Guadalcanal.  Just after midnight on November 13, 1943 the JUNEAU was struck by multiple Japanese torpedoes.  The mighty ship exploded and sank in seconds.  Of the nearly 700 crew members, most died in the explosion and subsequent sinking.  Some survived, only to perish in the sea.  Ultimately just ten crew members were rescued.


The five Sullivan Brothers and LCDR Blue all perished.


The Sullivan and Blue families were about to be reunited nearly 72 years later on March 19, 2015 at Naval Station Great Lakes...the same place the five Sullivan Brothers attended boot camp.

CAPT Harry Thetford and Ms. Linda Sullivan met at the Navy Recruit Command in Great Lakes, IL.  Both are relatives of  sailors who died on board the USS JUNEAU during WWII.

I approached Kelly Sullivan, who was busy talking to recruits and congratulating them.  I told her the story of LCDR Blue.  We instantly became siblings, bonded by the blood of family sacrifice in support of our Nation.


The Sullivan Brothers are honored by the USS SULLIVANS (DDG 68), a destroyer home ported in Mayport, Florida.  LCDR Blue was honored by the USS BLUE (DD 744), which was decommissioned in 1974.


The Sullivan Brothers are also honored today by the selfless service of Kelly Sullivan and her work with Navy recruits.


To top it off, there were two Navy Admirals there that night for the graduation.  Incredibly, both were previous Commanding Officers of the USS SULLIVANS.  You can't make this stuff up!


This chance meeting made the trip to RTC much more rewarding, and my heart swelled with pride as the recruits marched in to graduate, witnessed by a large crowd of family and military members.  I could imagine the Sullivan Brothers and John Stuart Blue smiling up above; comfortable that their legacy lives on and that the future of our Nation's Navy is in good hands.


Until next time, safe sailing!
Harry Thetford Jr.
Captain, Supply Corps, United States Navy

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Prisoners No More

For a writer interested in sharing stories about military veterans, it comes with mixed emotions to hear the experiences of veterans who were former prisoners of war – happy to hear they survived, but saddened they had to encounter such experiences.

Discounting physical and emotional issues, life expectancy tables alone dictate that the number of former POWs from World War II is in freefall.  Nonetheless, a good number of this select group live in North Carolina’s Triad area.  Some I have not met, but others  I have written about in the Greensboro News & Record – Bill Beavers, John Koehne, John Anderson, Tommie Hinton, Pete Edris, and Bill Gundersen come to mind.

On March 22, 2015, the North Carolina chapters of the American Ex-Prisoners of War held their annual state meeting at Captain Bill’s in Greensboro.  Over 250 invitations went out, 21 were able to come.  Leaders were pleased with the turnout -- the dynamics and attendance expectations of this group are quite different from most.

NC meeting of Ex-POWs held in Greensboro, NC.

Greensboro’s Bill Beavers, B-17 gunner, long-time friend, and the first POW I wrote about was there.  Greensboro’s Jane Fredrickson was there, even though she had just lost her husband (who was a World War II veteran) a few days earlier.  Fredrickson was born in the Philippines and along with her mother and sister were held as civilian prisoners of war for three years.  Her High Point daughter, Ann Williams, brought her mother to the meeting.  I haven’t written about Jane Fredrickson, but hope to do so soon.

Jane Fredrickson, Greensboro woman, sister and mother taken as
civilian POWs in Philippines at outbreak of WW II.   John Mims
survived Bataan Death March and imprisonment in the Philippines and
Japan.

Daughters of two deceased former POWs organized the event.  Lezah Arney’s father, John Anderson, was a B-17 radio operator in the 8^th Air Force, Toni Price’s father, Tony Sanginite, was a mechanic with the 9^th Infantry Division.  He was captured twice -- once in Italy and again in Germany.

Greensboro’s Emily Boswell was in attendance.  Both her brother and husband were B-17 crewmen shot down over Germany and captured.  Ironically, they went overseas together, flew from the same base in England and were shot down just days apart. They spent three years together in the same German POW camp.

Rocky Mount native E. Maurice Braswell was one of the first out-of-towners I met, and I quickly introduced him to Bill Beavers – Braswell was a B-17 tail gunner, Beavers was a B-17 waist gunner – both flew with the 15^th Army Air Force from Southern Italy.

B-17 Tail-gunner, Judge E. Maurice Braswell, and B-17 Waist-gunner,
Bill Beavers reminisce about their POW days.

Both flew missions over Ploesti, Romania, one of the most fiercely defended Nazi oil and synthetics sources.  Both their B-17s were hit over Ploesti, Beavers made it to Italy before crash landing – Braswell’s B-17 went down near Ploesti.  (Beavers was shot down later over Germany and captured.) 

After the war, with a law degree from UNC, Braswell served as district attorney and superior court judge in Fayetteville and later on the NC Court of Appeals.

Paul Dallas was an infantry squad leader in the Army’s 45^th Infantry Division.  He was captured during the Invasion of Southern France and imprisoned in three different German Stalags and one work camp before being liberated by the Russians at war’s end.  His weight dropped from 165 pounds to 92 pounds, resulting in a three-week coma during repatriation.  In addition to malnutrition, he was treated for spinal meningitis, hepatitis and pneumonia in France before returning stateside. 

Dallas returned to his Mississippi roots and graduated from Mississippi State University.  His work brought him to North Carolina, first with the Fayetteville Public Works and later with the Lumbee River Electric Membership Cooperative.  He has served in every national post of the American Ex-Prisoners of War, including national commander.  He and his wife currently reside in Fayetteville, where he is working on a book about his experiences.

Mississippi native and former POW, John Dallas, is past Commander of
the American Ex-Prisoners of War Association.

Mr. and Mrs. John Mims were seatmates to my wife and me during the luncheon meeting.  I made notes on everything at hand except my catfish sandwich.  Mims, a full-blooded American Indian from South Georgia, was in the Army and stationed in the Philippines at the outbreak of World War II.  He survived the Bataan Death March, even though one arm was mangled from a bomb explosion.  Japanese guards broke his legs with a bull dozer blade after a failed escape attempt.  He was imprisoned in Japan when the war ended.

Mims married a Filipino he met before the war and retired from the Army with 27 years of service.  They had three children, adopted two, and fostered 20 other children.  After 57 years of marriage, his wife died.  He has since remarried to Nena, she is also Filipino.  The Mims live in Aberdeen, North Carolina.

POWs from the Korean and Vietnam Wars were in attendance as well, I hope to write about them in future columns.

Without exception, each of the former World War II POWs I talked with credited a higher power for their survival.  Mims summed it up, “God has been mighty good to me – for a long time!”

Ol'Harry

This article is a continuation of the Bill Beavers story, ANOTHER REASON HIS WAS THE GREATEST GENERATION.  It is written by a Swiss researcher, Juerg Herzig, who read the Beavers’ column online and thought it resonated with something his mother had told him many years ago – she lived in the small town of Trimbach, Switzerland.  His website is http://standwheretheyfought.jimdo.com

Sixty-five years ago, the B-17 ‘Dottie’, a U.S. bomber, crashed in Trimbach.
By: Jurg Herzig


B-17 Dottie after being shot down.



Saturday, February 27, 2010, will be the 65^th anniversary of the day the enemy aircraft crashed in Trimbach. 

On Tuesday, February 27, 1945, about 2:20 p.m., according to Trimbach villagers, air raid sirens sounded in Olten, warning of an air raid.  Subject of the warning was a Flying Fortress approaching from the direction of Winznau. 

The bomber was from the 414^th Squadron, 97^th Bombardment Group (Heavy), 15^th Air Force, deployed from Amendola Air Base, near Foggia, Italy.

The B-17 Flying Fortress, known as Dottie was tasked to attack the Guderbahnhof, the main freight terminal in Augsburg, Germany.  During the attack, the ship was heavily damaged by anti-aircraft flak.  One engine was lost and the bombardiers were wounded.

As the mission’s lead aircraft, Dottie was designated (PFF).  Her nose gun turrets had been replaced with Pathfinder Force H2X radar equipment, code named “Mickey”.  “Mickey 4” was her radio call sign.     

Major George Albin, flying on his first mission with this Squadron, reported being struck by enemy fire at 1:25 p.m.  Another aircraft from Squadron 414, piloted by Major John R. Campbell, was flying alongside when Albin ordered Dottie’s crew to abandon the ship as soon as possible.

The aircraft was losing altitude rapidly.  The pilot did not think it could make it over the Alps, therefore, his order for abandonment. 

Bill Beavers, a waist gunner aboard Dottie, remembers the mission quite well. 

He and other crew members, who had completed thirty combat missions, did not agree with the pilot’s decision. 

They recalled a similar incident of August 18, 1944, when their aircraft received heavy damage and the loss of three engines over Ploesti, Romania.  Yet, the remaining engine flew them several hundred miles to safety.

Realizing Dottie was only six minutes from reaching the Swiss border, a crew member radioed the pilot to stay the course, rather than going down in German territory. 

This was seconded by Bill Beavers, “Better to be interned in Switzerland than becoming a POW in Germany!”

Even though most of the crew wanted to remain on board, Major Albin placed the aircraft on automatic pilot and along with the co-pilot, bailed out.

Only when the cockpit failed to respond to other crewmembers did they know the pilot and co-pilot had jumped.

“We were scared to death to jump, but Richard Adkins, our tail gunner, told us to stay calm.  Adkins was a big guy from Texas and threatened to boot our ass out of the plane if necessary.  As it happened, Adkins got stuck and we booted him out, then the rest of us jumped”, says Beavers.

Beavers and other crew members landed near a river and were captured by German police near Pussen.  Other crewmen landed close to a German Army Camp were captured near Kaufbeusen by the German Army.

The Dottie crew spent the remainder of the war in various POW Camps.  Beavers was imprisoned in Stalag VII A, near Moosburg.

General Patton’s Tank Division liberated him on April 30, 1945.  By that time he had lost more than fifty-five pounds.  Today, Bill and his wife, Mary, live in Guilford County, NC.  Now retired, he spends much of his time playing golf.

Back to Dottie, she flew on auto-pilot into Switzerland, crossing the border at approximately 2:00 p.m.  The Swiss Air Force customarily intercepted errant bombers and directed them to land at Dubendorf. 

Seeing that this B-17 was not responding to directions, Swiss Air Force fighter planes commenced firing on Dottie at 2:40 p.m.  Even after Dottie’s fuselage and right wing panel was on fire, the ship flew towards Trimbach.

Even though Dottie was losing altitude, the fighter planes remained on the ship’s tail, continuing to fire in an attempt to bring the ship down.  Unmanned, damaged, and out of control, Dottie twice circled the village of Olten, before finally falling towards Trimbach.

At one time, it was feared the damaged B-17 would crash into the Kantonsspital, the Trimbach Hospital.  Fortunately, those fears did not materialize.

Around 3:00 Dottie crashed into a field near Rinetelhof’s Inn in Trimbach.

Soldiers, police and firefighters rushed to the crash scene, only to discover that the aircraft had been completely destroyed.  They were not surprised that not even a tiny clue of crew member remains was found.