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Wings To Victory 43-01-28 Mission Aboard the Gwendolyn
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Wings To Victory 43-01-28 Mission Aboard the Gwendolyn
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Nicole Fire
We interrupt this program to bring you an important Wayfair message. Wayfair's got style tips for every home. This is Nicole Fire helping you make those rooms flyer. Today's style tip when it comes to making a statement, treat bold patterns like neutrals. Go wild like an untamed animal. Print area rug under a rustic farmhouse table. From wayfair.com Ooh. Fierce. This has been your Wayfair style tip to keep those interiors superior. Wayfair every style, every home. Uncle Sam presents Wings to victory. Attention. Mr. And Mrs. Walter Jones, USA. Story of ten men in a flying fortress nicknamed Gwendolin and how they set a record for taking it and dishing it out in the sky above German occupied France. From the west coast, ladies and gentlemen, the Army Air Forces present Wings to Victory, a dramatization of American heroism based on combat reports from the fighting fronts. For obvious reasons, the names of places and of characters in these true stories are fictitious. The Army Air Force's orchestra opens our program with the Knightsbridge march from Eric Coates, London Suite. Lieutenant Charles Taney's first vivid recollection of that day was a voice speaking on the radio. He had been awakened at 5 o'clock in the morning along with several other American officers. He found himself in a small barracks room called a mission hut at an American bomber station in England. It was while he was struggling up from sleep that he remembered this was an important day. He, Lieutenant Taney had been assigned as pilot of a strange flying fortress with a crew we had never met. They were going on a bombing operation over occupied France. But it was still dark outside and cold until some bright faced vim and vigor boy turned on that radio. Come on you guys, roll out. It's 5am and three minutes past. The good old British Broadcasting Company will wake you up. They got an early bird hour. Little Tom Titch chirping and kill him. Now where is that early bird hour? I know it's so the political situation in North Africa continues to be rather muddled. In this connection we have a Reuters dispatch from Lisbon reporting that the Axis will shortly launch a peace offensive. It is alleged that fascist groups in the democracies are secretly working for a negotiated peace with Hitler. French fascists. Ah, you've done it, Joey. I bet you busted every tube in the thing. Yeah. Did I? Too bad. Too bad. Why didn't you listen to what the man was saying? The war's gonna be over soon, okay? Okay, but you guys still got a. The war isn't over yet. Come on. I'm First. I'm first. The weather's a bit on the dark side. It is here. Here, allow me. Lieutenant Tinney dressed and drank his tea. That voice on the radio repeating vague but familiar rumors of Nazi peace offensives had jolted him. He was 26 years old and a school graduate. He remembers thinking that it was a bad start for a day of battle. A few minutes later, when he stepped into the English warning, he saw that he would get no brazing tonic from the weather. It was a blousy, mournful dawn, sunrise already a complete failure. Scatterbrained gusts of wind were chasing about the flying field. Tenetani walked with brisk strides to the intelligence office. Here the sharp, urgent details of his job reclaimed him. Captain Miller, the Intelligence section chief, was waiting for him. Sir, I'm Lieutenant Taney. Oh, yes, Lieutenant. Good morning. You're the new pilot for number seven flight assigned to 964? That's right, sir. Have you met Lieutenant Johnson, your navigator? Lieutenant Soucek, your bombardier? No, I'm brand new. Glad to know you, Johnson. Glad to know you, Skipper. Suchek. Yes, sir. They aren't giving us much time to get acquainted. Nothing like a bomber to throw fellows together. You may feel like a stranger for the first two or three minutes, but it'll wear off. Yes, I'm sure of that. Now then, boys, this is the setup in a general way. The Potez plan at Milt is making airplane engines and parts for the Germans. We're going to give them a pasting. Good. You'll be briefed it a little later. In fact, there's some delay for a reason I don't know, so all I can tell you is to stand by. But I'm sure Lieutenant Tinney will be glad of the chance to talk to the rest of his crew and look over his ship. Yes, sir. Oh, by the way, what's her name? Gwendolyn. Gwendolyn. Who named her that and why? Well, it's a mystery just who did name her. But she's got a gal's picture painted on her front end. A sort of a Petty or a John Legotta gal, if you know what I mean, Skipper. He knows what you mean, pal. Well, Gwendolyn suits me. How do the sergeants like her? Oh, fine. They look at her and start whistling. There are such things. Yeah, I suppose there are. I'd almost forgotten. Another moment. Gwendolyn's new commanding officer will not forget. Was the meeting with the rest of her crew? Within a short while, they would all be fighting for their lives together. Lieutenant Taney must depend on these nine men, and they must depend on him. They met in a corner of the operations hut and already the fortresses were warming up for the raid on mute. Lieutenant Taney, this is Lieutenant Midden, your co pilot. Lieutenant Sergeant Boucher, tail gunner. How do you do, Sergeant? Sergeant Reed, belly gunner Reed. Sergeant Bowden, radio gunner. How you doing? Sergeant Bowden, Sergeant Witzel, radio operator. How do you do, sir? Sergeant Burns, top gunner. How do you do? Sergeant Halverson, waist gunner. How do you do, son? Ike tells me he used to be a lawyer, sir. That's right, Midden. Well, I skimmed through law school myself. Oh, this looks bad. Pilot and co pilot, both lawyers and our bombardier just lacking a year of being one. You'll have to quote the books to Sammy and Ike, Skipper. Don't forget Pete Yanni. He used to be a statistician. He means Pete Bolton, sir. Well, if we can't lick those Focke Wolves, we'll get out an injunction against him, huh? Hey, tell him the gag about Peter the Great, Sammy. It's good you tell him, Side. Well, that Peter the Great only had two lawyers in his whole kingdom, so he decided he'd hang one of them. You heard this, sir? Oh, no, no. Go right ahead. Well, it seems like the lawyers heard or heard one of them was going to get hanged. So they decided that they were there. But Lieutenant Tinney listened with only half an ear to Sergeant Boucher's yarn. Though he was busy sizing up his crew, he was thinking to himself, they look okay. They all call one another by their first names. That's a good sign. I don't notice any nervous Nellies. I gotta learn all their first names before we start. I'll get Sammy Midden to help. I like their grins. Good thing they can kid right up to the takeoff. Even if that tail gunner does think hanging lawyers is funny. Oh, maybe it is. Yep, they'll do. I hope they think I'll do. I hope I will do. A guy can make so many mistakes, and just one is all it takes. Just one little item boomed a day and a negotiated peace. Fascist groups. Why do I keep thinking about such goofy rumors? I got a war to fight. I got a bomber on my hand. So the second lawyer says, I gotta be tried by a jury of my peers. So Peter the Great says, okay. So we get the jury of 12 jackasses to try the second lawyer, and they all vote guilty. Oh, yes, yes. Hey, this skipper's okay. Even if he did start out to be a lawyer. It's almost time to start for France. Gwendolen. The fortress is on the line. Lieutenant Taney is finishing a meticulous checkup with Sergeant Pokno, the crew chief. He's discovered that Gwendolyn is a beautiful gal, Clean, glistening and glamorous. He looks at Sergeant Pokno gratefully. Folk know sharp nose and bald headed chick. He's the only man associated with Gwendolyn who hasn't wisecracked. Well, Sergeant, looks like a swell job to me. You think maybe you can do some killing with her, eh? Killing? Oh, yes. Good. You have extra fine gunners, Lieutenant. I'm glad to know that. There is one drawback. They put you to Flytel and Charlie. They do that because your gunners are sick. Tail end Charlie Chaney. That almost rhymes. Sure, sure, you make a joke like all of them. But my knees are shaking. Shaking ease, eh? You want best cure for that. Yeah. What's your prescription, Sergeant? Shake your fists, Sir? Shake both fists. It's a sure cure for the knees. Thanks, I'll try it later on. I don't understand you boys. You laugh and make joke to me. This ship, she's a killer. I worked long time on her gun. Look at the breach here. All hand rubbed to work slick. I think of the Jerry's they will kill. Then I sweat them out some more. I don't like Jerry. What kind of peace terms would you offer peace terms to Jerry this time? Sure, he might yell comrade one of these days, you know. Oh, I would be deaf. I would be blind. Oh, now silence. Lieutenant Saint, I will tell you something. I fought Jerry last time. He lifted up his hands and said he was sick of war. I believed him. I will not believe him again. Would you? Well, number one flight's getting the flag. Time to go, skipper. Oh, very well. Sammy. Shake out of here. Anton, this boxcar goes to France. Maybe you could use an extra gunnery. Well, I'm afraid there isn't enough time to arrange. Oh, fall for that skipper. The old man would skin us alive if we took Anton. You get a court just for suggesting it. I guess I'm old. Well, good luck, sir. Thank you, Sergeant. Was there anything you'd like in the way of a souvenir? Bring me Hermann Gerrig with his throat cut, sir. But if you can't find him, I'll settle for all of you coming back in one piece. A great curtain speech, Sarge. Never heard you deliver it better. Oh, always kidding. But oh, God should bless you. Thanks again. Well, all aboard. All aboard. Gwendolyn, her Skipper and her crew are off to France. She has a belly full of bombs for Hitler's aircraft. Works at Mule, 60 miles inland from the French coast. Gwendolin is flying last in the rear guard, which is an echelon of thieves. From left to right, inside the wing end ships of the main formation. Lt. Taney and his men are still kidding one another on the ship's interphone as they cross the channel. Hey, Skipper. Yes? This is Ike Suchek, the handsome bombardier. Remember me? Oh, are we carrying a bombardier? Sure. You remember Reich, skipper? The boy with a clammy handshake and warts on his knuckle. Okay, Sammy, just for that, I'll have to tell him. Tell me what? Ike? Your co pilot has claustrophobia, sir. Sammy has? No kidding. You notice him getting restless? Just cut a hole in the fuselage with a blowtorch and let him walk on the wings. How's my navigator, Ike? Oh, one of the best in the business. Janny Johnson is strictly okay. Thanks, pal. Ah, now come clean, Yanni. Tell a skipper about that glaucoma in your good eye. Glaucoma? Does that interfere with a man's sight? Only after dark, sir. Total blindness comes on suddenly. Excuse me, sir, but this is Sergeant Boucher. We interrupt this program to bring you an important Wayfair message. Wayfair's got style tips for every home. This is Nicole Fire helping you make those rooms flyer. Today's style tip. When it comes to making a statement, treat bold patterns like neutrals go wild like an untamed animal. Print area rug under a rustic farmhouse table. From wayfair.com Ooh, fierce. This has been your Wayfair style tip to keep those interiors superior. Wayfair. Every style, every home. We interrupt this program to bring you an important Wayfair message. Wayfair's got style tips for every home. This is Styles MacKenzie helping you make those rooms sing. Today's style tip. When it comes to making a statement, treat bold patterns like neutrals go wild like an untamed animal. Print area rug under a rustic farmhouse table. From wayfair.com fierce. This has been your Wayfair style tip to keep those interiors superior. Wayfarer. Every style, every home. Yes, Sergeant Tony Reed, our belly gunner is going to have one of his fits, I'm afraid. Yeah? What kind of fits? I'm not twitching very much, skipper, but I just heard a thump. I think Sergeant Halverson has fallen through the bomb bay doors. We caught him. What's wrong with my waist gutter? His doctor told him never to fly, sir. He can't stand the altitude. Seems like. Haven't I any healthy men in this ship at all? Oh, sure. Top, turn at gunner Burns is healthy, sir. Oh, no, I ain't, Ike. I got a mental aversion to violence of any kind. You remember what the flight surgeon called me? Let me tell you about my psychoanalysis, skipper. You see, I was having dreams. But Lieutenant Taney isn't really listening to the rest of it. He knows that the crew is talkative because they're at a high pitch of nervous tension. He knows they talk with deliberate and sometimes grisly humor because men going into battle cling to the traditional refuge of the soldier. But he himself is thinking. As they approach the coast of France, I will soon be really in it. Wish I'd asked the major to tell those boys in the ships ahead not to get too far ahead of us. We're the last in line to drop bombs. When we open the bomb bay doors, their drag will slow us down. It always does. We'll fall behind the formation unless they wait for us. But they never do wait for Taylor and Charlie. They get excited and tear off. It isn't fair. It's just if just the next two ships wait for us. I wish I'd asked him. No, I couldn't do that. You can't tell the truth, that you're scared. You've got to pretend it's all a funny little game. Lieutenant Taney. Huh? Oh, yeah. Sammy, Major's calling. Hello? Hello, this is Taney. Hello, Gwendolyn? Receiving you, sir. They've got a new trick I forgot to tell you about. They come past your flanks and pretend to be after ships to right and left, then make a quick 20 degree turn and shoot at you. Might warn your gunners again. We're going in now. Thank you, sir. Hey, Lieutenant. Yes, Ike? Tell Yanni to quit tapping with his men so I can't concentrate. Oh, boy, oh boy. See anything interesting, Ike? A beautiful big factory. Reminds me of General Motors in Detroit. Uh oh, the boys are starting to mess it up. It'll soon be our turn. Bomb doors open. Good run, sir. Not much flak. It's a cinch. More right rudder. Lieutenant, we're in the slipstream. Right a bit hard. Right. Right. I said right. Right she is. Hold it. Now I wonder where the fighters are. Okay, bombs away. Butter up. Bomb doors closed. Step on it, skipper. We're falling behind. I know. They never wait for a guy. Hey, how about it, Ike? Did we do any good? Half a second. There they Are hit. Hit. Hit on target. Good boy. Then came the worst moment of a bombing raid. As Gwendolyn labored after the other fortresses trying to catch up, the heavy German flak fire abruptly stopped. That meant there were flock of wolves and Messerschmitt 109 G's in the sky. Why don't those guys wait for us? Ah, they never do. Hey, how much mercury are we pulling? 49 inches. Enemy aircraft at 3:00, Lieutenant. Jerry's at 5:00. At 9:00. At 1:00. Hey, Lieutenant, they're coming in from behind. There's a chilion of them. They look like pigeons. Pour it on them, tail gunner. I can't. My guns are jammed. I'm trying to clear up so it looks like you're firing. Okay, Skipper, I've got one cleared. Now, Lieutenant Gainey remembers that next few minutes. Cherries came in from all angles. They dived to within 15 yards of Wendland. Cut loose at her. The bullets and cannon shells ripped her tail or fuselage, her wings. To Lieutenant, it was like sitting in a huge iron boiler rolling down a mountain strewn with jagged rocks. Get that guy to. It was two guys, Sam. They came in one behind the other. Uh oh. Hey, Sammy. Yeah? What's your wheel doing way over to the right Line is centered. They got my AON control cable. Hey, Lieutenant, there's a bunch of control wire slapped me in the bus. Oh, fine. The tail surface controls are shot out. Shut off that engine, Sammy. I'm trying to shut off. Can't even. Ah, it's no good. The controls are messed up. Number one is quit on her. That's a mere nothing here. She's trying to climb on me. Give me a hand, Sammy. Gotta keep her nose down. Skipper. Skipper. Yes, Yanny? Our left hand oxygen system is gone, sir. Joe Halverson and Billy Witzel. Bill? Joe, you all right back there? I'm okay, but Joe passed out. I'm using the emergency bottle on him. Does he hurt, Bill? Nah, just no oxygen. He's coming around, but I guess. I guess I'm gonna pass out. I can't see. Bill, answer me. Hey, Ike. Now what's that? Both waste gunners are out. Hop up and see if you can do it. Okay. Now. Skipper, this is Joe I'm working on. Bill, tell I to stick where he is. We'll have to go down to 20,000. Sammy, brace yourself against this wheel so not too hard if you're bending the column nuts. She's got to go down. Those guys can't live up here without oxygen. One engine running wild and one dead. With motor aileron and tail control shot to pieces, both wings sieved by cannon shell, Gwendolyn sank drunkenly down to 20,000ft. Her right wing was so badly damaged, it took full left aileron to hold it up. Gwendolyn was in a desperate flight. Seeing her drop and then go staggering off alone, the Jerry pursuit pilots knew they had a cripple. They moved in for the kill. What does a Fortress pilot think about in such an extremity? Lt. Taney remembers very well of what he was thinking. Well, this is it. We can't make it back to England. We'll have to ditch her, bail out. It's a German prison camp for all of us. They got us. They know it. He was the close. I could see his face. That was right above, near the top church. Yeah. Tough luck. But I. Hello? All hands. All hands, attention. Prepare to ditch. Ike. Ike. Okay, pal. Johnny. Ike. Bill. Yeah, Joe. Ike. Tony. Yes, sir. Watch your behavior. When you get down, tell him nothing. Hey, what's that? It's Rick Burns. He's fallen out of the top turret. He's badly shot up. I'll go back and see. I got a towel. I'm okay. That's all I need you now. Take it easy and lie down. Let me see where you hit. Just knock some poops, some teeth out of me. I steal. Skipper. Skipper. Attention all hands. Rick Burns is hurt. We'll have to try to get him home. But anyone who wants to can bail out. Lieutenant Taney. Yes, Ike. I want to come up and help Rick. What's the matter with the door? Rick's lying on it. Sammy's helping him. Call Bill, which you in here, will you? Skipper? He's our best hand at first aid. Bill's already on his way, Skipper. He'll kill me. Just give me a towel of stuff in my mouth. How you doing, Sammy? Oh, good. Tell Rick to lie still and let me feel for the arteries. Trying his best to bleed to. I'll take over, Sammy. I can handle this bug. How about a Bill? Is this where you press for the carotid artery? You're nuts. That's my adenoids. She's gone out of control. Come up here, Sammy. You'll have to help me. Okay, slide over. I'll get a quick grip. Lieutenant Hay. Yes, Joe? Halverson is hit. Got him in the belly. How much longer will it be? Not long, Yanni. We're over the channel. Hey, Bill. Yes, sir? Is Rick all Right. Yeah, he wasn't shot in the lung, just in the head. I've got him plugged up. Okay, Go back to help Lieutenant Johnson. Thanks, Skipper. Another two minutes of first aid and I would be a goner. I'll make it now. Feeling better, huh? Yeah, except I'm kind of tired of flying. It won't be long now. Is that a definite promise? I give you my word on it, Rick. You square head butchers. Pour it on. Come on down again. We're still flying, Sarge. Tony. Pete. Have you killed any of them? Have they done all this to us without getting anything? Don't tell me we haven't killed even one of them. Take it easy, Skipper. I got four myself. Three here, Lieutenant. I've been keeping close track, Lieutenant. We got 12 sure dead ones and about seven, maybe 13 short. Deadwin, Skipper. Hey, here come the Spitfires. I don't think Jerry will be back. Hey, Lieutenant. Rick Burns is speaking to you, sir. Oh. Oh, yes, Rick. I'm plumb out of patience with flying. I sure would like to see some ground again. I mean see it and feel it. We're going down now. If Sammy and I can point our nose that way. Heave ho, Sammy. Yep, here we go, Rick. You'll walk on that ground again. So will Joe. So will all of us. Lieutenant Taney has a very sharp recollection of that landing. He brought Gwendolyn wobbling down to the nearest British landing. Gwendolyn's wheels were useless. Her runaway motor and shattered controls made it impossible to check her speed by normal procedure. So he deliberately brushed the tops of several trees at the edge of the field and slid her down on her belly. But it was the scene right afterwards that will stay with Lieutenant Taney as long as he has memory. Careful. That stretcher now. How you feeling, Joe? Ah, Bill and Yanni are nuts. I just got a crease in the belly. I'll be up tomorrow. The docs will see about that. Hey, Rick. Rick Burns, where do you think you're going? One adenoid and two teeth. That's all, Skipper. I'm gonna get myself a cup of tea. You get back on that stretcher, Rick. Go on now. Hey, you orderlies. Put him in the ambulance and keep him there. Sammy, can't you please talk to the skipper? I can't be in the hospital tomorrow. Neither can Joe. Why not? If they got a heavy date or something. Well, kind of a day. Charlie, we all want to say goodbye to Hank Edmiston. Edmiston? Our old skipper. He took his place. Great Fella, they're giving him the DFC Posthumously. Oh, I see. No one told me, huh? I'm sorry. Lieutenant Taney. Lieutenant Taney. Is he here? I'm Taney, Bud. Oh, how do you do, Lieutenant? I'm with the broadcasting company. We're running a series of interviews with a American flyers. We send them by short wave to the States. We'd like you to be in our next program. You know, say a few words, talk to the folks back home. Inspirational stuff, you know. You wouldn't want me. Oh, but indeed we would, sir. No, you wouldn't. What I'd have to say wouldn't sound nice. I'd be pretty apt to talk about the Jerry's. What I think ought to be done to them for starting this war. And I might say what I think of any so and so who wants to patch up an easy, sweet and murderous piece with him this time. Time? Count me out on the talk, Bud. I'll just stay here and kill as many of them as I can. We buried a flyer of the United States Army Air Forces today. Was he shot down by a German over England, over France or Belgium or Tunisia? Or did a Japanese kill him above Guadalcanal? Aqab, Kunming, Rabaul? Perhaps his deadly foe was a solid front of rain in Dutch Guiana, a snowstorm in Iceland, a bolt of lightning in the Congo, or a wind current in some lost Himalayan gorge. But what does it matter now? My brother has fallen. Our comrade is slain. The boy is dead. Cover him with the flag and make the slow march to his resting place. And let the bugle weep for him. In the soldier's farewell of taps, one more gallant laughing heart has vanished from the fight. And is this all? Is this the end of his story? We say of him as Christians should, may thy rest be this day in peace and thy dwelling place in the paradise of God. But from our hearts will blaze one further angry speech. We must be very careful how this boy's epitaph is written. He was an American. He loved and fought for some patch of earth in his native land. He died in a distant field to keep war on the slave makers from them who were dear to him. But he was also an airman, a pioneer, a citizen of that greater republic of the sky. No country on this earth was entirely foreign to him. It learned new conceptions of time and space. National boundaries passed beneath his flashing silver wings and there were no more than lines on the map. He crossed proud empires in a day and the clock was a childish toy. He fought shoulder to shoulder with men of many creeds and races. He fought and died for peace. Not peace in America alone, but peace for the world. Peace for all men of goodwill. And beside his grave we speak this vow. The Germans and the Japanese will lust no more for military grandeur. When we have finished with them. We mean to give them a lesson in war that will never be forgotten. Man the guns. Load the bombs aboard. If they do not surrender, we shall bomb them until they cry peace. Peace. O blessed peace. Be merciful and grant us peace. Service program came to you from the West Coast. This is the Blue Network.