Unshackled

Two friends of ours made a motorcycle tour of Corsica this summer. They stopped by the beach at Galeria where Dad's plane went down. They brought back some debris they found, and it is wonderful.

The big bent piece has a part number, 33D5233:

Google comes up with a hit labeled "Waco Aircraft Company Records, 1930-1950," that says it's a "Link Assembly - Bomb Shackle"

Apparently you can buy a whole B-24 bomb shackle on e-bay (and what home doesn't need one?), but I have so far been unable to find a photo of this particular piece. It's about a foot long, and bent at about an 85-degree angle -- I suspect during the crash.

An article at b24.net tells what the shackles were for:

The Army Air Corps and the Navy used the same bombs but attached them to their planes differently. As a result, each bomb had three lugs: one near the front and tail for use in AAC planes and one in the center on the other side for use in Navy planes. (576th armorer Tom Perry said the Navy's lug "always got in the way" when loading bombs.) A metal clip called a shackle was clamped onto the two lugs; the shackle was then hooked onto the bomb rack.

When the bomb was released, the shackle disengaged simultaneously from both ends of the bomb. A bomb was "hung up" when one end did not completely separate from the shackle. An airman then had to step out on the narrow catwalk in the bomb bay (without a parachute, as he wouldn't fit if he wore one), often at bombing altitude, and kick the bomb loose.

Sounds fun.

I would welcome any information about the piece, and how it would have worked. 

One more "link" to Dad's last flight.

75 years.

World War II ended 75 years ago today. For my Dad, anyway. 

John Kristan was the top turret gunner on a B-24 in the 15th Air Force, 485th Bomb Group, 829th Bomb Squad. His plane was serial number 42-78127, known as #127 officially, and unofficially as Tyer's Flyers.

On July 5, 1944, Tyer wasn't flying. The plane's namesake was lost a week earlier flying another B-24. William Vaessen and William Sipes were the Pilot and Co-pilot. The crew:

They were based in Venosa, Italy, in a base built across Italian farmland. The day's mission was to fly across the Mediterranean to Toulon to bomb submarine yards. The route crossed Corsica, an island that was part of France but that had been occupied by the Allies.

In the history of the European war, it was an obscure mission. It doesn't merit mention in a Wikipedia timeline of the war. The big news then would have been the land war in Normandy and in Italy, and the Battle of Saipan in the Pacific.  But for Tyer's Flyers, it was the biggest day of the war.

Here is the summary of the mission, courtesy Missions By The Numbers: Combat Missions Flown by The 485th Bomb Group:

"...return made without incident." Not entirely.

Here is a picture taken over Toulon during the mission by the unit photographer. It was provided by the photographer's son:

You can see two planes below below the photographer- one in the upper right corner and one near the bottom. I probably will never know whether one of these was 127.

My understanding is that Lt. Vaesssen was killed by anti-aircraft fire over Toulon, and Co-Pilot Sipes took the controls of a damaged airplane. This would have been when it "was seen to lose altitude at the target and lagged."  A straight line back to Venosa would carry 42-78127 over Northwest Corsica on the way back to base.

It was a losing struggle. I understand that Dad said the crew threw a lot of stuff overboard to shed weight and tried to bubble-wrap themselves in what soft stuff they could find in case of a crash landing. They almost made it to Corsica before ditching in Baie de Crovani at Argentella, Corsica.

This is a picture of the bay where they went down, taken when we visited in 2010:

As was apparently typical, the B-24 broke up when it ditched. The front of the plane ended up on the beach, and all in it died. The back end was sinking in the bay. Tail gunner David Korkuc, though injured, pulled three of his unconscious crewmates out before the back end sank. He then went and found help. My Dad was one of the three of those pulled out who survived.

These are Dad's crewmates who didn't make it:

• Vaessen H William 1st Lt 0-536855 829th BS 485th BG Pilot KIA
• Sipes R William 2nd Lt 0-705827 829th 485th BG Copilot KIA NC
• Wittenbrink E George S/Sgt 36446168 829th BS 485th BG Radio Opr KIA NC
• Duer N Richard 2nd Lt 0-703456 829th BS 485th BG Bombardier KIA
• Witham L Harris Sgt 35753847 829th BS 485th BG Nose Gunner KIA NC
• McGregor W Jack Sgt 35613832 829th BS 485th BG Ball gunner KIA NC 

Dad was hospitalized for a year.

I don't know what the total losses on the mission were. In addition to the four bomb groups that met up with Dad's group, the 376th Bomb Group participated, and probably others.

The mission apparently destroyed two Kreigsmarine submarines, U-586 and U-642. Toulon was captured by Allied troops by August 28, 1944. Update, 7/5/2021: Uboat.net, my source for the U-boat losses, also says that U-952 was "badly damaged" in the July 5 raid and decommissioned a few days later.

Now 75 years have passed. Dad died in 2001. He didn't much talk about the war, but he said that every day was a bonus after July 5, 1944.

Over Toulon, July 5, 1944

Dad's B-24, 42-78127, flew its last mission over Toulon 67 years ago today. These pictures, taken on that mission, may well show the plane over the target, the submarine pens in Toulon harbor, after it had taken flak.



It is dangerously below other planes that are still dropping bombs, which would be consistent with the after action report, which reported "Aircraft 127 was seen to lose altitude over target and lagged."

The pictures were taken by the unit photographer and is courtesy of his son, Gerry Weinstein, who I met at the bomber group reunion in South Carolina last fall.

The second picture shows two B-24s, one in the upper-right corner. By this time the pilot of 42-78127 is dead, killed by anti-aircraft fire, and the plane itself is doomed.

Thanks to the heroism of David Korkuc, one of Dad's crewmates, Dad survived the crash at Argentella Beach in Corsica and lived many more years. I still miss him. I'm grateful I never have had to face anything remotely like that. We remember the six crew members who died on July 5, 1944.

Sgt John James Kristan

Dad was the top turret gunner on B-24 42-78127. Thanks to David Korkuc, he lived for 55 years after the plane went down July 5, 1944. He considered each day after the crash to be a bonus day.

He would have been 89 today. We miss you, Dad.

A picture we dug up this summer in Mom's photo closet. We only have a few pictures of Dad as a young man. This one, with only two stripes, was new to all of us kids.

I wouldn't have been sure that picture was Dad if this clipping weren't taped to the photo holder.

This postwar picture of Dad and Mom (Dad doing his best Marlon Brando impression in the camera booth) is my favorite picture of them together.

2nd Lt. Richard "Dick" Duer

Dick Duer was the bombardier on B-24 42-78127 with my Dad on thier final mission, and he died in the wreck at Argentella beach in Corsica on June 5, 1944. His Nephew, Rich Tebo, has been kind enough to share some information he has collected, including this picture.

Lt. Duer was a Wisconsin native. He was honored by having a gym named after him in Marinette, Wisconsin.



Rich links to a touching online memorial for Lt. Duer that shows he was remembered long after that horrible day. Rich also sent some additional great information on the flight and crew that I will post soon.

I received an nice e-mail today from Jane Cook, a granddaughter of Lt. Duer, that reminds us of the cost of a wreck that probably was almost unnoticed in the carnage of the time:

My uncle died many years before I was born, it was a terrible blow to my grandparents. Rich has sent me video clips of the B-24 crew reunion and what the interior of the plane. I always thought Dick never had a chance to escape, it was interesting to read the newspaper clipping about the guy thrown from the plane who was able to rescue four crew members before the plane sank. I am so happy for you that your dad was one of those crew members.

Jane, thank you for writing. I'm delighted that you found your visit here worthwhile.

More Argentella photos

Some more photos of our visit to the beach at Argentella on Flickr. Here Frank shows us a fragment of B-24 42-78127.

The beach at Argentella

After the most beautiful and frightening three-hour drive I've ever been on, we finally reached the beach where B-24 42-78127 made its final landing July 5, 1944. We only found it because Dan used our Euro-standard cell phone to reach Dominique Taddei and Frank Allegrini, our Corsican guides (this one phone call making the London purchase of the phone and the expedition in Bern to get a France-to-U.K. Power adapter worthwhile).

We called Dominique from a crossroads gas station near Galeria, the village near the beach.

Frank drove there in his little Fiat and led us towards the beach. We stopped on the way from a spot along the country road with a commanding view of the beach.

Dominique and Frank.

We then drove for perhaps another 10 minutes down this narrow road to a parking lot near the beach. Our rental Renault scraped bottom seriously going down to the parking lot, making me glad I got the full damage coverage at the Hertz desk. As difficult as the beach was for us to find and reach - we never would have without our guides - I can only imagine how remote and inaccessible it was in July 1944.

We walked another five or ten minutes in the 90-degree heat to the beach. On the way Frank explained how he came across the wreck. Frank was preparing to go diving at Argentella, and the man who was filling his scuba tanks told him that he had witnessed the crash. He said the plane bounced two or three times on the rough waves and broke in two, with the front of the plane landing on the beach and the back remaining in the water.

Frank, it turns out, is a professional archaeologist. His day job is to oversee a Roman site at Ajaccio, where we are staying. He investigated the site with the care of a professional, and he eventually interviewed three witnesses. He learned the fate of the plane portion that landed on the beach. Around 1950, a man brought his donkey and some hand-operated cutting tools down to the beach and began to cut up the wreck for scrap, which be took up to the road one donkey-load at a time.

The propellers escaped the scrapyard. One had made it up to a local camping area somehow. A French Foreign Legion unit based in nearby Calvi hauled a second blade from the beach, and it too now rests in the camping area. Frank recovered a third propeller from the water, and I believe it is in his private collection. Frank sent me this correction July 30, 2010:

I did not recover the propeller from the bottom, the one I salvaged came from one other camping area near Calvi. That camping area was a military camp occupied by the foreign legion before being a camping area. They recovered that propeller in the 60s or 70s, probably during a training, and used the part as garden ornament. It was the camping owner who gave me that part in 1988.

Frank, thank you!

The fourth propeller remains in the bay somewhere. While Frank was able to photograph pieces of the wreck, he explained that a great storm in (if I recall correctly) 1999 covered or scattered the wreckage, so it is no longer visible to divers.

Frank and Dominique led us to the beach, where they took us to the spot where the front section was beached.

It was amazing to stand at the spot. A scene of terror, pain and death on July 5,1944, the beach today is a beautiful and quiet swimming beach used by campers at the nearby camping park and by locals and tourists savvy and hardy enough to find it. No sign that six men died on that mission, or that my Dad nearly did.

Frank then led us to the vegetation at the edge of the beach,where he said pieces of the plane had been washed up in storms. Sure enough. Absolutely amazing to find pieces of the plane after 66 years.

Then it was up to the camping park to see the propellers, First our guides chatted with the proprietor, who invited us into his little bar and offered us drinks. He seemed disappointed that all we asked for was Coke and water. I sure wanted something stronger, but after our terrifying drive up, I didn't dare. He refused to let me pay for the drinks, with characteristic Corsican hospitality. The Corsicans we met are unbelievably nice.

The camping park proprietor with Frank and Dominique.

Then it was a short walk to the propellers, mounted on a concrete wall along the park entrance:

The family poses with the propellers.

I should emphasize that Frank and Dominique did this on their own, traveling a long way on the crazy Corsican roads, to guide us with no pay. It's a debt I can never repay.