We were allowed to rest for 5 days after that frightening experience of Brunswick on Friday the 19^th. Today turned out to be another "fun day" as our target was an airfield 22 miles southeast of Paris and 5 miles North of Melun. Our course took us directly over the center of London. At briefing we had been told that the balloon barrage would be pulled down so we could make a low pass over the city to let the long suffering Londoners get a close look at the tremendous power of "The Mighty 8th Air Force." This was before the onset of their renewed suffering a month later on June 21^st when the first V-1 Flying Bombs (commonly called Buzz Bombs or Putt Putt Bombs) began to ravage the city all over again followed later by the V-2 rocket. It would never have been allowed to lower the balloons which were anchored with their steel cables if this had not been previous to the Buzz Bombs.

Take off was early at 0500 hours. Our group was divided into three separate squadrons of 12 planes each, the 67^th, the 68^th and the 506^th. We assembled over clouds with another 132 B-24's of the 2^nd and 3^rd Divisions making a total of 168 Liberators carrying 500 tons of bombs headed for the Melun Airfield. After assembly we headed straight for London. There was no cloud cover over the city. It was a never to be forgotten sight as we traveled this huge city at approximately 1000 feet. I'm sure that many of my readers have seen several planes flying together, maybe as many as 12 or 15 but can anyone imagine what it must be like to see hundreds and hundreds of four motor bombers pass close over head. The roar and vibration was something to behold. I doubt that in the foreseeable history of mankind that this sight will be repeated again.

We continued on to the channel then broke the coast of France in Normandy. From here we circled in around Paris from the west making our bomb run south of Paris to the target which lay between Paris and Melun. Our strike photo shows that the 68^th squadron's bombs landed squarely on target. Each plane carried 24 300 pound bombs or approximately 3^1/2 tons of high explosives. The flak was light and inaccurate inflicting no damage to our plane. Fighter support was so effective that we saw no sign of the Luftwaffe.

Our outbound flight took us to the same old area between Dunkerque and Ostend where we crossed the channel homeward bound. Generally we did not refer to a penetration of enemy territory as deep of a run around Paris as a "Milk Run" but for all practical purposes, this was a "Milk Run." We landed at 1115 hours after 6 hours and 15 minutes in the air.

It was about this time that we four officers were moved out of our Nissen hut and into a private room of a "real" barrack building. The building had its own orderly that cleaned our room and made our beds each day. There were two double bunks, one on either end with a desk under the window between the bunks and a small pot belly stove. Just outside the window was one of the many "duck ponds" scattered throughout the whole of EastAnglia. Pilot Peritti and Co-pilot Palmer had the bunks to the right of the door. Bombardier Warga and I shared the other with mine being the top bunk. It was like being in heaven after the noise and confusion of a Nissen hut. Of course, there was no sink or running water but who can have everything. We had to shave and shower at the officers latrine with cold water, there being no hot water available to anyone. Fortunately it was spring and summer otherwise I would have died as I never could get used to bathing in a cold shower.

Our six enlisted men were quartered in a barrack close by. I do not remember ever going into their barrack but they often visited us in our room where they were welcome. A hallway ran the length of our building with a door opening into the yard area. There was chopped cord wood stacked near the door and I often left my bicycle leaned against the wood.

Alcohol was not allowed anywhere on the base but there was always a way to circumvent this "technicality". One evening about the time we four officers had gone to bed, we heard the gosh awfulish noise in the hallway. It sounded like a pack of dogs were running wild. Then a scuffle at our door ended when the door flew open. As God is my witness, I saw four of our enlisted men run into the room on all fours barking like dogs. The lead "dog" was Otho Freeman who was being chased by the other three "dogs", Swoose Alexander, Richard Stamper and John Schneider (our radio man). Believe it or not, they were drunk on Vitalis hair tonic. Our other gunner, Domenick Cannetti and engineer Paul Corlew were stone sober and were trying to get the four "dogs" to come home. "Dog" Freeman jumped onto the bunk with Peritti and Palmer followed quickly by the other three "dogs". All this time they were barking and yelping and howling up a storm.

I was on the top bunk on the other end of the room, with Warga below, observing all this commotion. The room soon became a disaster area. Peritti and Palmer were trying to fight them off with Cannetti and Corlew pulling at all four "dogs" to get them off. Finally Peritti calmed everyone down and Corlew explained what had happened. Much to our relief, they left our room to go back to their own barracks with "dog" Freeman still on all fours and a leash around his neck. The smell of the Vitalis coming from their breath was awful.

Luckily there was no mission scheduled for us the next day because I'm sure that at least four of our crew would have never made it. One might ask why were enlisted men allowed to take such liberties with their officers. To understand would be to realize the camaraderie that existed among the members of a flying crew.