This mission turned out to be my last for the month, the date was August 18, 1944. Flak was taking a heavy toll. I later found out that the 8^th Air Force lost 131 aircraft to anti-aircraft fire compared with only 39 shot down by fighters during the month. Flak had become our number one concern.

Our target for the day was an airfield a mile east of Nancy, France. It was known as Nancy-Essey Airdrome. The Luftwaffe had been forced to withdraw by the capture of their field in northwest France. Nancy is some 170 miles east of Paris just south of Luxemburg. The 44^th Bomb Group had 23 aircraft make it to the target. We carried 52 100 pound bombs each. We were the lead aircraft for the group and had been assigned an Intelligence Officer as an observer. The weather was beautiful with unlimited visibility. This officer had been hanging around Group Headquarters for several days waiting for the right opportunity, he picked this Friday's mission to go with us. It appears that in order for an intelligence officer to be allowed as an instructor at our training bases back home, he was required to fly at least one real combat mission in order to be qualified as an "expert." Common sense tells you that he would not pick a deep penetration into the heart of Germany as his first choice. Todays mission looked like an "easy one" to this particular officer so he requested that he be allowed to fly with us.

This guy was a real "Eager Beaver". He was all over us. At briefing, he asked a thousand questions and when we reached our plane and were preparing for the flight, again he was everywhere. I usually laid my charts out on the ground to study them or to go over the bomb run with the bombardier. I got a bit aggravated when he picked up my papers so he could "study" them.

Finally the flare came from the tower, it was time to broad "Lili Marlene". Capt. Peritti and the officer agreed in advance where he would be during the bomb run so he could get maximum visibility when the bombs were released and follow them down to the target. He was to lay on the "cat walk" that ran the length of the bomb bays with his head to the rear of the plane and his body towards the flight deck.

As lead navigator, I had a great responsibility during the assembly. It was a complicated and exacting task. I really did not have time to fool with this "observer" but that did not bother him. Again a thousand questions, he was taking notes. He wandered from one end of the aircraft to the other, asking each man about his duties. He almost ran us nuts but finally we reached the vicinity of Nancy and the IP. The Intelligence Officer took his preselected position and Lt. Warga started the bomb run.

Before I go on, I need to tell you about something special that all lead planes carried. The first two bombs held by the bomb bay shackles were "smoke bombs". The purpose of this was to mark the bomb path as they left our plane. They were known as "Skymarkers" or "Smoke Streamers". When they were released, they started immediately to emit a very dense pure white smoke. The other bombardiers in the squadron would release their bombs on this signal. Nancy-Essey Airdrome was well protected by anti-aircraft guns and they had us in sight as we were only at 15,000 feet. The flak began to burst close by and before Warga was ready to release our bomb load, a piece of flak came into the bomb bay striking one of the smoke bombs. This bomb was only a short distance in front of the observers head. Smoke began to pour out of the bomb and in short order our whole plane was filled with this white stuff. I could hardly see my navigation desk and I don't know how Peritti kept control of the plane.

Warga released our bombs when he was ready. He did not let little things bother him. As our strike photo shows, our bombs landed dead center of the airfield. He of course received an excellent rating for the day.

The smoke finally blew clear of our plane. (The crews in our fellow squadron planes said later that we looked like nothing they had ever seen before with all that smoke streaming from us). Capt. Peritti on every mission made a check of the crew to see if anyone had been hurt. He received a negative response from all positions except the observer laying on the "cat walk". He did not respond.

Peritti asked the radio man, John Schneider and our engineer, Paul Corlew to check on our passenger. He knew we had been hit in the bomb bay and feared the worst for our "new crew member." Schneider and Corlew got to the officer and reported back to Peritti that he was alive but would not talk nor let go of what he had been holding onto. They could not bring him back onto the flight deck as long as he held on. The bomb bay doors were closed so Peritti decided to leave our observer where he was.

It was a long way back to base and we flew a total of 8 hours on this mission of which at least 3 hours were required to arrive back to Shipdham. This Intelligence Officer never said one word on the way back. I can't remember now if they ever got him back to the flight deck or not. I was busy navigating and did not have time to worry about him. I was glad not to have the aggravation that I had on the way to the target.

Landing was late afternoon. When the plane finally rolled to a stop at our hardstand and the props stopped turning, I got out through the nose wheel door opening. I walked back to the open bomb bay and saw several of the fellows lifting our "observer" out of the plane. A more pitiful sight, I've never seen. He could not stand up by himself and he was shaking all over. Boys will be boys, we began to razz him and ask if he will go with us on our next mission. He spoke the only words I can remember hearing him say since the smoke bomb exploded in his face. In a very stammering, high pitched, quivering voice he said, "I - I - I - I'll never-never-fly-fly-fly-fly again". They put him in a jeep and we never saw him again.

Now as a young boy 21 years old, I thought at the time that this was one of the funniest things I had ever seen. As I think back on it, I still smile at the mental image I carry locked in my mind. But now I try to imagine what this officer went through. He was not acclimated to the noise and danger of combat flying. I wonder if he recovered sufficiently to become an "Expert" back in the States.