8:49 | He was flying his 22nd mission in the nose turret but Don Ogden had only engaged enemy fighters once. He never saw the two that brought down his B-24 and wounded him with shell fragments. He tells the story of his exciting escape from the plane, the fall from high altitude, and his miraculous landing.
He'd passed the flying exam but Don Ogden was so tired that he began stammering and he was rejected. Determined to fly in combat, he became a gunner and in a strange turn of events, his tendency towards air sickness would actually save his life.
The requirement was fifty missions to go home. Nose turret gunner Don Ogden describes several of his missions that were memorable, including the time he watched a parachuting man bring down another bomber and the time he nearly fell out of the turret. Then there was the mystery of small explosions heard around the air base.
After surviving the crash of his B-24 and seeing the burned bodies of his crew, Don Ogden was imprisoned in Hungary where he suffered abuse from civilians and was nearly killed in an American bombing raid. Once again he was saved by being where he was. This time it was the basement.
After months of indifferent medical care and abuse at the hands of his Hungarian captors, which included being sentenced to death in a court where no one spoke English, Don Ogden finally met a German. After a week in solitary, the officer interrogated him without success.
Don Ogden was actually relieved to be in the hands of German guards after months of mistreatment by his Hungarian captors. When he got to the prison camp in Poland, he witnessed a bizarre accident during latrine cleaning and the even more bizarre sight of German guards killing their own.
Don Ogden describes the food, what there was of it, in the prison camp and laughs at the memory of the German commandant who kept them busy making an ice rink. And then there was the guard nicknamed Big Stoop, who got mad at them one day and charged at them, firing his Luger.
Near the end of the war, the POW's were forced from their camp and put on a forced march to nowhere. They walked 800 miles in 3 months, says Don Ogden. He suffered from the food deprivation and unsanitary conditions, but he also met a new friend, Harold Thompson. Passing through a small town, he witnessed an unbelievable act of cruelty at the hand of a young SS trainee.
It was a forced march and the POW's were quartered in a barn listening to frightful artillery, when a British soldier opened the door and said, "Cheerio, chaps!" They were free, but the British did them no favor by feeding them all they wanted. Don Ogden had survived it all but suffered one more indignity, this time at the hands of his own government. He couldn't go home, because he looked too bad.
He had survived a fighter attack, a bail out landing without help from his parachute, a prison camp and a forced march, so there was no way Don Ogden was gong to take a chance sleeping below deck on the liberty ship back to the States. Once home and no longer struggling against Nazis, he began a decades long struggle against the VA and against his own demons.
If you treated your Navy hat with salt water, you could roll it up in a really sharp way that also let you show off your Pompadour. That was how John McGinty hit the streets of Long Beach, but it wasn't long before the Shore Patrol noted his breach of grooming regulations.
As his tour wound down, B-17 bombardier Dequindre McGlaun was honored to have his commanding officers flying with him. At that point in the war, the German V-1 program was still secret but the Allied bombers were already hitting their bases. Time off in London was always welcome and he tells what he found there.
Trained as a Beachmaster, Mortimer Caplin shipped out for England on the Queen Mary. His unit had a lot of specialized gear and he had to form a guard detachment to keep other units from walking away with it. After they got it all to the Southern English coast, they participated in the ill-fated Exercise Tiger out of Slapton Sands.
John McGinty well remembers the end of the war in the Pacific. There was a huge "V" formation of warplanes and they had a little party on a tiny island. He thought he had it made with only a point and a half to go to get his discharge, but the Navy had other plans.
The pilot was ready to die. Louie Clark saw him after he crashed his kamikaze into the deck of the destroyer USS Haynsworth. There were many casualties, including a big pot of beans that caught a machine gun from the kamikaze after it crashed through the deck. Clark describes the bravery of men that day and the solemn ceremonies of the burials at sea.
When his buddy George Farris was hit by a sniper, Bob Royce and two others started back to battalion headquarters to get help. They had to hit the ground when the same sniper targeted them. Royce decided to get up and run for it. After he secured aid and was returning to the front, the sniper struck again.
When he arrived in Burma to join Merrill's Marauders, Stanley Sasine had to jump from a moving plane, run for cover and dig a foxhole. He did not have to face the daunting challenges of the original Marauders, but the perils were plenty. When the General found out that Sasine was color blind, he was made 1st Scout because he could spot the hidden enemy so well. His first kill came suddenly, though, when he came face to face with a Japanese scout.
Navy Corpsman Frank Walden went ashore at Omaha Beach with the Beach Battalion, a unit charged with managing the beach during the assault. After the shock of seeing the first bodies, and after a frightening rush to find safety in the chaos, he began to treat the wounded.
The man had been shot up pretty bad, remembers Herman Buffington, who carried him back to the camp. All the way the wounded soldier had pleaded with him to leave him there, but once safe in a foxhole, he wouldn't let go of Buffington's hand, even when the medics prepared to evacuate him.
It was their third mission over Berlin and they were heading home. Four German fighters pounced on the B-24 and it was engulfed in flame and going down. Clyde Burnette fought for consciousness as the other crew in the back of the plane bailed out. He woke in free fall with no idea how he had made it out, and soon he was in German custody. Everyone made it out of the plane except George "Danny" Daneau, the nose turret gunner, who went down with the aircraft.
Two engines were out, a third smoking, and they were were losing airspeed and altitude, but they were flying level and pointed home. Then time ran out for the B-17 and Don Scott had to slip down the hatch into the slipstream. Part 2 of 3.
They were trying to take a ridge on Okinawa where the Japanese had dug trenches and the persistent Americans tried repeatedly to take the position. Herman Buffington got close enough to vault over into a trench where he used the old helmet-on-a-bayonet trick to judge the enemy fire. He received the Bronze Star for his actions in this firefight.
After a nerve-wracking mission to bomb Tokyo and a typhoon, B.E. Vaughan and the destroyer O'Brien suffered a second kamikaze attack which killed all three of his hometown pals who served with him on board. Then, began the grim task of collecting the personal belongings of the dead and preparing them for burial at sea.
The first operation for the 4th Division was the landing on Roi-Namur. Lawrence Snowden remembers that, though it was an easy victory, valuable combat experience and important lessons were imparted on the Marines.
Herman Buffington was hunkered down in his foxhole on Okinawa when a mortar round hit close by and a piece of red hot shrapnel tore through his leg. It sounded like bacon frying, but a medic got the bleeding stopped and he was going to be OK. He refused the morphine because he was already exhausted and didn't want anyone else to tend to his tourniquet.
Herman Buffington was taking some potshots at Japanese troops on the other side of a large ravine where they were foolishly cooking their rice out in the open. When an officer came by and asked how he was doing, he remarked that he was trying to mix a little lead with the rice. The man asked for the rifle so he could give it a try and he proved to be an excellent shot. Buffington could smell the brass and he was right. It was General Simon Buckner.
They started in the eleventh grade, military recruiters giving tests and reminding students about the draft. John Mcginty joined the Navy two months before the draft would take him in 1944. He went aboard the brand new light cruiser USS Atlanta while the welders were still working. As a Projectileman, he had to load shells that presented a unique challenge.
It was late night guard duty and Herman Buffington heard something. Then he saw a figure crouched in the brush. When the next flare went up, he sighted and fired. The figure didn't move so he shot him again. When he found out why there was no reaction, all he could do was laugh. He did get a souvenir out of the encounter, a silk Japanese flag.
B-17 bombardier Dequindre McGlaun was inspired by his leaders in the 94th bomb group, including Frederick Castle, who was awarded the Medal Of Honor posthumously for guiding his crashing bomber away from American troops at the Battle of the Bulge. Ira Eaker and Curtis LeMay also were important commanding officers in his career
Dequindre McGlaun was in bombardier training when Pearl Harbor was attacked. It was going well until he got sick and had to be held back and graduate with a later class. He was finally flying in B-17's when his crew was split up and he became an unassigned crew member.
B-17 bombardier Dequindre McGlaun discusses the change of command in his squadron and how the new commander wanted to get out of headquarters and fly. The bombardier describes the anti-aircraft flashes on the ground as German gunners took aim. "You better get me quick because I am going to get you!"
His crew had been split up and B-17 bombardier Dequindre McGlaun was waiting for an assignment. He was sent to the 94th Bomb Group, but when he was grounded with ear problems, his pilot was killed in a crash landing. Once again, he was a wandering bombardier without a crew.