Fiasco at Saint Lo, France | D-Day June 6, 1944
 

D-Day: June 6, 1944 by Harry C. Evans

Our Group, the 322nd, which included the 449th, 450th, 451st, and 452nd squadrons, was the first B-26 Martin Marauder Medium Bomber Group to engage the Germans in combat in the European Theater of Operations. The first mission, a low level attack against an electric power plant in Ijmuiden, Holland on May 14, 1943, was a complete failure; however, all planes returned safely except one, which was destroyed making a crash landing on its tome field. Our second mission three days later against the same target at low level was an absolute disaster; we lost all 10 of our aircraft and crews.

The above experiences clearly demonstrated to our air crews that chances of surviving 25 low-level missions were practically nil. This, of course, was a severe blow to our otherwise high moral. We all felt that the risks were too great to continue low-level operations. Fortunately for us our Bomber Command also determined that the B-26 Marauder could not operate effectively at 50 feet above the ground against the German defenses. Accordingly, we were ordered to conduct our combat operations at medium level or 12,500 feet, using precision bombing techniques.

The change to medium altitude required retraining our crews to do close formation flying and precision bombing. We had to practice conscientiously since flying time was limited by weather conditions. Our combat crews trained diligently to make medium-level attacks successful. The B-26 was considered by same not stable enough to do precision bombing at this altitude; however, we proved them wrong. From July 1943 until D-Day our Group flew more than 200 missions at medium level. We achieved excellent results, many times bombing difficult targets.

Nobody knew what sort of losses we would experience, but we expected to complete our tour after 25 combat missions. The expected didn't happen. Because our loss ratio was low and many crews were completing 25 missions in a short period of time, our tour quota was increased to 50 missions. This increase was perhaps expected by most of us. We believed in the combat worthiness of our airplane, and we felt good about our abilities and chances of survival.

After reaching 50 missions a few air crews were rotated back to the USA on the Rest and Return program. This program was, however, suddenly stopped. This change caused a great deal of discontent and vociferous criticism. We were especially concerned since there was no limit to the number of missions we had to fly. It indicated to us that we had to keep flying missions until something happened to put us out of action. This caused many crews, especially those with more than 60 missions, to complain that they were taking all the risks. They felt they had used up all their good luck and deserved some relief.

I recall Lt. Colonel Grove C. Celio, speaking to the Group and responding to the severe criticism of what was labeled the "fly till you die program." He mentioned that the big day was about here. He said that the Americans and British had stockpiled an enormous amount of equipment and supplies in England, and, he added, if any more were brought in, he was afraid the whole island would sink into the ocean. His statement drew a favorable response and stopped further bitter questions about our continuing combat missions.

I know the strain and stress encountered on each mission, but when you are in the Armed Forces you must carry out the program ordered for your Group. Some people could not handle the pressure and anxiety of combat flying on a continuous basis. I remember Captain Harrison, a navigator, stopping by my office to tell me that he could not take any more missions. He said, "I'm going to bail out over France." I knew he was serious, but I couldn't talk him out of it. He bailed out over northern France before D-Day.

During the latter part of May 1944 I noticed, as the Group Bombardier, that Bomber Command was directing our attacks against bridges over the Seine River. All the bridges between Le Havre and Paris were targets.

On June 4, 1944, I flew as lead bombardier with Colonel Glen C. Nye, Group Commander, who led the Group as we attacked a highway bridge across the Seine at Courcelles Sur Seine. Each ship dropped four 1,000-pound bombs from 12,000 feet. We put three of the six spans into the water, and photos revealed that we had inflicted heavy damage on the remaining spans. By June 5, 1944, all of the bridges over the Seine north of Paris, including railroad bridges, had been destroyed.

On June 5, 1944, we were sent to attack the Headquarters of the German Air Force at Chantilly, France. The weather over England was completely overcast, and the weather over France was equally as bad for flying. After penetrating a thick cloud cover, our planes were so scattered that they could not safely join up in a formation, and the entire mission was aborted.

Then during the early afternoon of June 5, 1944, I was called along with the Group Navigator, Sheldon D. Past, to report to Group Headquarters for a special meeting with Colonel Nye. When we arrived at Headquarters, we were surprised to be greeted by our officer friends in the Military Police, who had the building surrounded. We knew that something very important and secret was at hand since the Military Police always guarded our crew during a mission briefing. All the Group Headquarters' Flying Officers along with the four Squadron Commanders and their Operations officers were present at this meeting.

Colonel Nye held a field order in his hand as he spoke. He said, "I want to read to you an excerpt from Field order #88-348S:

OUR GROUND AND NAVAL FORCES WILL COOPERATE TO EFFECT LANDINGS IN FORCE ON THE FRENCH COAST. ALL AIR FORCES IN THE UNITED KINGDOM WILL EXERT MAXIMUM EFFORT IN SUPPORT OF THESE LANDINGS. THIS WING WILL SUPPORT LANDINGS OF ASSAULT FORCES.

Colonel Nye advised us that the invasion was set for between 6 and 7 a.m. the next morning and that we would participate with maxim effort. This news sent chills up and down my spine. This was it.

The Field Order set forth our Group's targets for D-Day. All of our targets were the German coastal defenses, the big 14- and 16-inch artillery guns that had to be knocked out of action so that our ground forces could make successful landings.

Our Group was assigned three early morning targets and two afternoon targets. This was the most complicated combat operation we had been ordered to perform. Each target had to be separately briefed, which required the Headquarters and Squadron Staff Officers to work all that night and very late on June 6th. We conducted the briefings using, except for one slight change, our normal procedures: intelligence officer's report, weather report, information on navigation to targets, bombs carried, and bomb run, a description of the target, and an explanation of why its destruction was necessary.

Normally the intelligence officer would advise the air crews where to cross the Seine in the event they were shot down because in the past a number of downed airmen had been fortunate enough to walk across France and escape into Spain and the U.S. Embassy there. This escape route required the help of the French Underground and it also required that the downed airmen know where to cross the Seine; however, since all our targets were west of the river (our morning targets were the German coastal gun defenses near Normandy Beach and on the Cherbourg Peninsula) this was not necessary.

We were specifically directed, when returning to our base, not to fly toward the invasion forces in the Channel. The naval forces had been instructed to shoot down any plane coming from the beaches toward them. Air crews were again advised that the Germans had made special efforts to befriend the French citizens in the coastal defense areas to obtain their cooperation. We had heard that these citizens were provided better food and clothing, even fruits, chocolate, and silk stockings. This meant that not all French men and women were friendly toward Americans, and in the event that we went down, we were to remember that some Frenchmen would turn us over to the Germans.

The targets for the first and second boxes of 16-ship formations were the coastal guns at Ouistreham located in the British and Canadian invasion sectors. The third box of 16 planes was to bomb the gun positions that overlooked the invasion forces at Montfarville, located in the northeast tip of the Cherbourg Peninsula.

Col G.C. Celio led the first box to Ouistreham. We took off in the early morning hours of June 6th. It was a miserable day, cloudy and rainy. The weather had us all depressed because it severely limited low ability to help the ground troops. We were scheduled to bomb at 12,000 feet, but icing conditions forced us fly at 8,000 feet. We followed our Pathfinder Ship, with its secret radar equipment, toward the Channel.

We were over the Channel about 5:30 a.m. I was in the "crow's nest" and through the Plexiglas nose of our Marauder could see nearly everything -- straight down, straight ahead, right and left. There were no dead spots of activity below us. I felt rather safe and very fortunate to be at 8,000 feet, especially knowing how bad the weather was for this operation.

It was still dark on the earth's surface, but at 8,000 feet there was early morning light. The earth's surface provided a dark background that allowed us to see coastal artillery shells caning towards the invasion ships like balls of fire streaking across the area. At the same time many hundreds of naval shells were in the air and landing on the beaches and further inland. The air was filled with streaks of fire. I believe I could see every red-hot shell going and caning. Looking to my left, I saw Le Havre in a mass of flames. It appeared that the petroleum storage tanks at the mouth of the Seine were exploding with flames reaching high in the sky. Also I saw several ships in the Channel on fire. It appeared to be nothing less than fiery hell on the coast and in the water.

Before we got halfway across the English Channel most of our formation had to abort due to wing icing. As we approached the French coast I began to see the hundreds and hundreds of small Infantry Landing Craft, called LCIs. The Channel seemed to be covered with ships. I wondered what the men in those LCIs were thinking while heading for the beaches. They had to be scared and probably nauseated by the rough water in the Channel. I asked the Lord to help them make a successful landing. We flew over then a few minutes prior to 6 a.m., before they reached the beaches, and then we continued following our Pathfinder on the bombing nun.

Because of the weather and icing problems, only two ships of our 16--ship box dropped their two 2000-pound bombs at the target. The bombs were dropped through the clouds, and we were unable to observe the results.

The second box of the morning missions also experienced icing conditions, causing seven ships to abort and return to base. Nine aircraft, however, dropped eighteen 2,000-pound bombs on gun positions at Ouistreham with unobserved results.

The third box, led by Lt. Colonel E. Wursten with First Lieutenant E. J. Clemenzi as bombardier, bombed the Montfarville gun positions; attacking the target at 6:27 a.m. Montfarville was an extremely crucial target because it had a commanding view of our forces in the channel and a shell range of 20-25 miles. The third box dropped thirty 2,000-pound bombs and two 1,000-pounders, all fussed 1/10 second in the nose and 1/40 second in the tail. Because of their strategic position, we knew we had to knock these guns out of action -- and we did.

After dropping our bombs we headed west to exit France beyond the Cherbourg Peninsula. Our course took us between the Channel Islands of Jersey and Guernsey; installations on both islands fired at us, but missed. We avoided the invasion forces and returned to base along with our Pathfinder. We got back in time to have a short briefing on the afternoon target, a bridge near Caen. Our next stop was the mess hall for lunch.

During the afternoon our same crew flew the second mission, attacking a highway bridge near Caen. Colonel Nye led our box of 18 ships and I was the lead bombardier. On our way to the above target we flew by our C-47 transport planes pulling gliders loaded with troops and supplies. The British two-engine bomber (Whimpy) also pulled gliders, some pulling two at a time. Both the gliders and C-47s dropped supplies by parachute. The colors and designs of the parachutes identified the type of supplies contained in each package. It was a fascinating sight to see hundreds of variegated parachutes of all descriptions floating down at the same time.

We flew at an altitude of 4,000 feet. Each plane (because one ship had to abort, only 17 ships dropped bombs) dropped four 1,000-pound bombs spaced 50 feet apart on the target. The concussion of sixty-eight 1,000 pound bombs exploding at the same time actually buffeted our plane upward 200 feet above our bombing altitude. All aircraft returned to base.

After the intelligence interrogation of the afternoon mission we received our usual two ounces of whiskey. Since we had flown two missions that day, we got four ounces, which put me in good shape to eat dinner and go to sleep. We all knew we must be ready and at our very best for D--Day plus One.

I lived in an old farm house off the north end of our short north-south runway. The Group Flight Surgeon and a Squadron Doctor also lived there. They had prescriptions that allowed us to get a sound nights sleep. The doctors always helped us get rest, especially when we had lost a friend.

During the days after D-Day the enemy created a great deal of confusion by sending false instructions to our forces on our radio frequency. For example, I was lead bombardier for Colonel Nye on June 8th when we bombed the crossroads in the small town of Isigny, France. Thirty-six planes were sent out from our Group to bomb this target; however, only the lead flight of six ships reached the target and dropped bombs. Some planes aborted because of weather conditions, but others returned to base after hearing a false recall by the enemy. I remember very clearly the situation that day at the crossroads aiming point. We attacked the target at 2,000 feet, which was low for 500-pound bombs because 48 bombs exploding at that altitude at the same time could very easily damage our planes. When the target came into view, I was surprised to see two to three dozen people standing in the middle of our aiming point. They appeared to be civilians, waving their hats, coats, and handkerchiefs. I said to Colonel Nye, "People are standing on the aiming point waving at us. What should I do?" He said, "If you are sure of the target, let them go." This conversation and decision took only a matter of a few seconds. Since we were flying at 200 miles per hour or 293 feet per second, we didn't have time to discuss the situation. This was the first time in my combat career that my work permitted me to actually see people being destroyed by our actions. Even though all of these people may have been disguised German troops, this bothered me.

As a bombardier, it was my job to destroy buildings, airports, railroads, marshalling yards, bridges, shipyards, E-boat pens, enemy aircraft, V-1 buzz bomb launching sites, and to otherwise carry out the orders of the Bomber Command. It made me feel good to destroy a target from 12,000 feet in the air. I never connected this destruction with the loss of human life, even though I knew it had to happen. I couldn't see it: therefore, I didn't dwell on it. The Air Force was very careful to drop leaflets to advise that certain areas would be bombed and to warn the civilian population to stay clear of those areas. Unfortunately, sometimes this procedure did not work as intended.

This document was prepared from my personal experiences, notes kept during my combat tenure, and other information I accumulated as Group Bombardier of the 322nd Bomb Group (M) located at Andrews Field, Great Saling, England, during 1943 and 1944. Other references include 322nd Bomb History. Ninth Air Force and Flak Bait by Devon Francis.