![]() The crew for this mission, led by Second Lieutenant Maurice Beatty, were strangers. That left Lucky to finish his last four missions with various crews. Complete that many missions and you got to board a slow boat back to the United States. For bomber crews in 1943, twenty-five was the magic number. This time, Lucky was flying with a brand-new crew.Īlmost a month earlier, Lucky’s original crew completed twenty-five missions and rotated home. Others, like Lucky, found the stamina to remain focused on the job at hand and carried on. Some withered under the onslaught and refused to continue to do so. ![]() Mustering the courage to get back into the airplane day after frightful day eroded the will of the aircrews. They expected it and were surprised when it didn’t come. Lucky and others had become indifferent to death. There was no way the aircrews could contend with the pressures of combat day after day and remain the same people. As the war progressed, Lucky realized he was facing not one enemy but four.įighters that attacked with more experienced pilots and better equipment as they aggressively protected their homeland.įlak from the Nazi antiaircraft guns, which hit American bombers with deadly accuracy.Īnd freezing temperatures, an unseen enemy in the unpressurized and unheated airplanes that seriously impeded the aircrews’ ability to function.Īll four factors had a devastating effect on the aircrews’ mind and body. No one climbed into a B-17 confident they were coming home. Each man-from two pilots in the cockpit to the single gunner in the tail-was tethered to the four-engine bomber and relied on the machine for air and warmth.Ĭonfident the ship-nicknamed King Bee-was airworthy, he returned to the nose, where a small door was open leading into the cockpit area. ![]() It delivered the bombs, but more importantly acted as a body for the ten-man crew. Lucky knew how important it was because the bomber was the single most important part of the mission. The preflight walk was routine before a mission, but not without focus. 50-caliber machine guns poked out of the top, side, and cheeks of the bomber. ![]() The bomber’s four massive Wright R-1820-97 Cyclone turbo supercharged radial engines towered over him on the 103-foot wings and eleven. The Flying Fortress looked formidable perched on her front landing gears, her nose peering skyward. He checked the connection points on the antenna wire that stretched from the top of the tail to the radio hatch just behind the wings.Īs he got to the front of the aircraft, he stopped and looked at the ship. Lucky ran his hands along the fuselage and wings and worked the ailerons with his hands up and down to make sure the mechanism was smooth. His face had an innocence, a kind of aww shucks, easygoing look, that masked what he’d seen over the skies of Nazi Germany. He spoke with a soft voice that had just a hint of an accent with elongated, slow, and drawn-out words like the Tennessee River that ran through his hometown of Chattanooga. He was tall and skinny with a boyish grin. Lucky stowed his gear near the hatch at the front of the olive-green B-17 bomber and walked around the aircraft looking for anything out of place. Most bomber crew members only made it to ten missions before they either got wounded, captured after being shot down, or lost their lives altogether. He was on his twenty-second mission flying B-17 bombers into occupied Europe against the Luftwaffe, meaning he was on someone else’s borrowed time. His nickname was Lucky, but Second Lieutenant John Luckadoo felt anything but.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |