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Note: Oral History Interview with Vic McMenamin, done by Erin Fitzpatrick-Bjorn and Jeff Bjorn, 18 August 1993, DeKalb, Illinois: One day a few summers ago we had the chance to sit down with Uncle Vic in his apartment at the “High Rise” in DeKalb and hear some stories from his flying days. We’ve had the notes from our interview since then, and had just recently typed them up for Jeff to share at a very special Veteran’s Day celebration being held at the school he teaches at next month. Over 150 W.W.II veterans will attend and be honored during a full-day event which will include a “USO show” and a B-17 fly-by. Jeff will be sharing Uncle Vic’s experiences with his students. Below we’ve tried to capture the essence of the information and stories Vic shared with us. We hope you enjoy reading about this special man! Mementos of Uncle Vic’s World War II flying days were scattered around his apartment as we sat down to hear him tell about his experiences: a few photos, a painting, a medal, even a model airplane. One photo was of a blue-gray plane with red highlights and a star on it. It was a B-24J “Liberator,” the type of plane Vic flew in. Another photo was of a plane in battle; that frame was decorated with Vic’s Distinguished Flying Cross Medal. A third photo was that of Combat Crew 240-172, with eleven flyers. Vic said that at the time of the war he was not interested in history, just in girls and drinking. “The changing of the guard [at Buckingham Palace] meant nothing to me. Now I regret it. When I was over there [in England] I went into London two times.” One time Vic flew into London for a plane part but, as he told it, “all I saw was the inside of one pub for about an hour.” He recalled that he went off the base one of the first nights he was over there and went into a town of about 40,000 people. He went through some villages along the way where there were houses with thatched roofs and streams running through the villages. “And damned if the geese weren’t even floating . . . Just like the postcards we’d seen.” When Vic left home for Europe in 1942 his father had just gotten his first rubber wheeled tractor. In Europe he saw a man with a horse and an oxen with a single plow planting potatoes just as he’d done for years and years. Vic spent one of his weeks on the Rock of Gibraltar and remembered it as “interesting as hell.” A GI and his wife had just been sent there. They were the first army personnel there and they invited Vic up to their home. The experience just getting to their home was an exciting one: “streets were curvin’ and curvin’. I was scared to death.” One of the raids Vic told us about was over Proeste(1.), Romania. All bombing was done from about five miles up. In Proeste they had a concise target; they could’ve gone in with bombers to saturate, but they didn’t have enough planes, so they decided to go in at a low level. They lost about 40% of their planes. During the Proeste raid Vic sat for thirteen hours and forty-five minutes in the tail turret of his plane (80% of this flight was non-combat). He described it as “sitting in a high chair.” There was no room to move and he had to use a cup with a tube for urinating. “I remember most just prior to target we had to climb up for 50 feet above fields to get over smokestacks. Coming down for the last initial point(2.) there was a call for test fire about fifteen to twenty miles out. Twin 50’s [guns] test fired and I noticed a farmer and his wife right between my bullets.” After the raid there were several holes in the vertical stabilizers in Vic’s plane. The vertical stabilizers stick out on both sides of the plane just in front of the tail gunner’s (Vic’s) seat. The Proeste raid was the only single action in World War II in which five Congressional Medals of Honor were awarded. Only two of those were awarded to living men. Five commanders of the bomber group received the military’s highest award. Vic’s plane was eventually shot down about forty miles south of Vienna. It was June and they were doing a “milk run.” He didn’t remember seeing a fighter or very much flak. They had been in England and were sent back to Tunis. They could hit the Vengasi factory from Tunisia. On the return to base his and sixteen or seventeen other planes went down. He couldn’t see any of the other planes, couldn’t see much except the tail piece basically. They had extra fuel on board instead of a full load of bombs, and oxygen tanks above the fuel. Vic left his rear hatch, counted five and pulled the string. He landed on the ground and began trying to get his wits about him. “Didn’t get a scratch. Couldn’t get a purple heart.” As he began drawing maps of Italy and Tunisia using the information he had about where they’d flown, Vic saw his co-pilot, Roberts, a man on his first mission, walking due north instead of south. “Obviously he was in shock and was bleeding from the leg.” All the US soldiers were captured except one pilot(3.) and a bombardier who died. Vic wasn’t sure at the time, but said that when he didn’t see any other chutes open he assumed that his good friend Bugyie(4.) didn’t make it. They picked up several prisoners along they way to the camp, but still no Bugyie. About the fifth day, Vic was walking around the camp and saw Bugyie. Vic did not even stop to say hello or anything, he just ran back to the barracks yelling, “Bugyie’s here. Bugyie’s here.” Bugyie later told Vic he hadn’t pulled his cord until he was at about 3,000 feet because he was afraid of the fighters. On April 8, 1945, the Germans began marching the group. At one point, while they were waiting to get water, Vic noticed there a small incline. He got a few friends to get the guards’ attention. “I said, ‘get their backs to where I’m going.’ I knew if I could get ten minutes the embankment would hide me.” Vic walked in the evenings and at night to prevent his detection. He dug up potatoes from the fields to eat. He also remembered kernals of corn from horse dung. Once, Vic walked up to a farmhouse (it was rare to see a house outside a village) which had no phone wires running to it and no lights. He saw a man chopping wood. Between the man and the building (about 3/4 of a mile away) he saw another man, who he walked right up to. “I’ll be a sonafabitch if he wasn’t a mongoloid. He couldn’t talk. The one guy who could help me was a nut! I went right up to the farmer and asked for brot. He thought I was a refugee or something and gave me bread.” Three or four days later Vic saw some women. He told them he was an “Amerikanish Fleiger.” They took him to a ditch and told him to lay down. Eventually they took him to Anna Engelbrecht, an aristocratic, anti-Hitler woman. She found a young lady of about 35 who spoke almost perfect English. Her husband happened to be a prisoner of the US from the African invasion. “I couldn’t see the war ending until September or later so I thought I’d stock up on food and move on. [But] she knew a berger who needed help so I started working for him. I’d plant potatoes in the afternoon. The evening the ladies took me down it was nearly dusk. He took me into the barns and showed me his oxen, horse and a big pig. At the end of the barn he said, ‘here’s your toilet,’ and showed me.” The next morning Vic had to take the pigs out to pasture, and he pitched manure later. Animal and human waste went into the same pot. He had to go down into it in his shoes and socks to pitch it up. While he was down there he saw some water trickling down the gutter. He didn’t realize it was actually waste coming down until he went over and looked up to see a woman on the hole! The farmer Vic worked for had a winecellar on the edge of the village, and every so often they’d have to wipe down the kegs. “He would take me out say at noon and then return at four or five. He’d show me a keg I could drink from while I’d work. Then when he’d come out in the evening we’d drink from another keg. We visited as long as we could.” Since they were still near a town that the 15th had been bombing and still in the area of the prison camp, Vic didn’t want anyone to know he was an American flyer. “It was reasonable to assume that people in this village had relatives killed.” It would not have been good if they had discovered an American flyer in their midst, so Vic posed as a North African Frenchman. However, “after all that wine I went home singing ‘Give My Regards to Broadway.’ Luckily no English speakers heard!” This is the end of the stories Vic told us that day, but there were many, many others. His courage and resourcefulness and that of the thousands of other veterans like him who fought for freedom and justice in World War II is something to be admired and respected. We will always remember him, especially on this Veteran’s Day. 1. Uncle Vic called the town he was talking about Proeste. However, we can find no town by that name in Romania. The Romanian name for the town is Ploiesti. 2. The final turn and then there is no more deviating from the course. That point to the target is a dead run. 3. A Terry Olson corresponded with me in 1997, indicating that his father, Stan F. Olson, was the pilot who did not survive the incident. Terry said that his father was the only one aboard who did not survive. 4. The spelling of this friend’s name may be incorrect; Olson referred to Steve Buggie. The pronunciation is boo’jee. In 1987, when explaining to his nephew, Bill Montgomery, about the moment the plane was hit he said, "All I remember was feeling the plane shudder a bit behind me, as I was sitting facing out the rear glass of the tailgunner position. When I realized we had begun a descent, I turned around to see the front of the plane gone. I quickly grabbed my parachute and headed for the way out and as I got just a few feet below the plane it exploded." Two more stories Vic related to Bill Montgomery: One story was about his "duty" one day of cleaning the open pit in the ground used as an open toilet, it being full of human waste. The only way to clean it was to jump down into it and shovel it out. That was one of his most degrading experiences, until a very large and very fat German woman came to use the toilet and did not regard his being in it at all, as she stood by the side of the "toilet", turned around, lifted her skirt and proceeded to make her deposit in the direction of Vic. The other story was about an experience Vic had while living on a small farm after escaping from the prison camp, doing work for a Hitler-sympathizing little fat man, who even wore a small, narrow, black mustache as further example of his loyalty. This was much to the chagrin of Vic, and he could do nothing about working for such a slob of a man. He continued to pretend to be a frenchman until the American liberation came nearby and his host pretended to celebrate the Americans in his presence. With that, Vic gave up his "disguise" and punched the little Hitler in the stomach saying, "God Bless America", in English. Flight Records for: Flight Crew 240172, 506th Bomb Squadron, 44th Group: Mission No. / Pilot / (Victor McMenamin's) Position / A/C Type / A/C Serial No. / Date / Mission Date / Target 1 - Anderson, Belly Gun, D-5-CO, 41-23787, May 1, 1943, Diversion, France 2 - Anderson, Belly Gun, D-25-CO, 41-24235, May 4, 1943, Diversion, Holland 3 - Anderson, Tail Gun, D-35-CO, 41-40172, May 14, 1943, Kiel, Germany Submarine 4 - Beam, Tail Gun, D-35-CO, 41-40172, May 17, 1943, Bordeaux, France 5 - Beam, Tail Gun, D-35-CO, 41-40172, May 29, 1943, La Pallice, France 6 - Beam, Tail Gun, D-35-CO, 41-40172, July 2, 1943, Lecce, Italy 7 - Possey, Belly Gun, D-20-CO, 41-40172, July 5, 1943, Messina, Sicily 8 - Beam, Tail Gun, D-35-CO, 41-40172, July 8, 1943, Catania, Sicily 9 - Beam, Tail Gun, D-35-CO, 41-40172, July 10, 1943, Catania, Sicily 10 - Beam, Tail Gun, D-20-CO, 41-24201, July 13, 1943, Crotne, Sicily 11 - Anderson, Tail Gun, D-5-CO, 41-23787, July 15, 1943, Foggia, Italy 12 - Beam, Tail Gun, D-35-CO, 41-40172, July 17, 1943, Naples, Italy 13 - Beam, Tail Gun, D-35-CO, 41-40172, July 19, 1943, Rome, Italy 14 - Anderson, Tail Gun, D-35-CO, 41-40172, August 1, 1943, Ploesti, Romania 15 - Anderson, Tail Gun, D-35-CO, 41-40172, August 16, 1943, Foggia, Italy 16 - Olson, Tail Gun, D-160-CO, 42-72857, September 24, 1943, Pisa, Italy 17 - Olson, Tail Gun, D-160-CO, 42-40370, September 25, 1943, Lucca, Italy 18 - Olson, Tail Gun, D-160-CO, 42-72857, October 1, 1943, Wiener-Neustadt, Austria CREW #240172, MEMBERS in photo of 27 May 1943: Anderson - On mission, October 1, 1943, over Wiener-Neustadt, Austria Shaw - On mission Olson - On mission Hurst - On mission Goodson - Post Service, bef 1986 Ferkauff - Post Service, bef 1986 Bell - Post Service, bef 1986 Hearne - Post Service, bef 1986 Hartney - Post Service, August, 1988 Lt. Allen - Post Service, September 29, 1988 McMenamin - Post Service, October, 1996 First mission: ‘Kiehl, May 14th 1943’ In his own handwriting, on the back of his CREW #240172 photo; "Killed on missions - Anderson, Shaw, Olson, Hurst. Deceased since leaving service, Goodson, Ferkhauff, Bell, Hearne, as of 1986. Aug. 1988, received word Hartney died. Sept. 29th, 1988 Lt. Allen died. As of this date I am the only surviving member of Combat Crew 240172 - Nov. 18th, 1988 - Vic P.S. I had just been assigned to this crew as tail gunner; replacement for Goldiron who failed to return from pass to Norwich to attend briefing for mission to sub-pens at Kiehl. Later Court-Marshalled. Kiehl was my 1st mission, May 14th, 1943. Dec. 1988 - Just noticed in our Bomb Grp's quarterly magazine that our bombing altitude over Weiner Neustadt was 22,000 ft. but that we were down to 16,000 when our plane blew up. All these years I thought we were still at bombing altitude. I guess I was pretty busy not to notice our descent." Discharged from the AAF (Army Air Force) October 8, 1945, after 34 months overseas. Editorial Written by Vic McMenamin, Staff Sergeant, 8th Air Force DeKalb Chronicle, June 1990, DeKalb, Illinois "Remembering" Editor: Re: The Flag Controversy. The above subject has brought to mind a thrilling experience I enjoyed a few days after the Armistice Declaration of WWII in Europe. As an escaped prisoner of war I was returning to my former prison camp seeking transportation, and coming out of a wooded area one morning, lo and, behold, there was the camp with the American flag flying from the same pole that had flown the Nazi Swastika, and in front of which we had to stand for roll call each morning of the previous 18 mos. Even today as I write this, I recall distinctly the thrill I experienced - just standing there, trying to absorb the full impact of the moment. I do believe it is far more intelligent and useful for one to use a pen between his fingers rather than a match-stick to express himself, regardless of ones stand on this issue. VICTOR A. McMENAMIN More of Vic's memories of his WWII experiences: Lived in on a military base in rural England from October 10, 1943 to about July 1, 1943, and in North Africa on missions until October 1, 1943. His first mission out of Africa, after joining the flight crew he eventually "went down with", was May 14,1943. With that crew, Flight Crew 240172, 506th Bomb Squadron, 44th Group, he flew a total of 16 missions. That Crew flew a total of 18 missions. The Crew's missions must have at first been based out of England, then transferred to Africa in about July of 1943. Between May 14th and July 13th he racked up 13 bombing missions. July 13, 1943, was his 13th mission as a tailgunner, over Crotne, Sicily. Doing the math, he must have flown a total of 21 missions, October 21, 1943, being his 21st mission; 13 missions up to and including July 13, and 8 missions from July 15 to October 1. (NOTE: A little conflicting information: On the back of the photo of his Flight Crew he wrote May 14, 1943, was his first mission, while he wrote home on July 13, 1943, that he had just flown his 13th mission. The Official Flight Records for Flight Crew 240172, 506th Bomb Squadron, 44th Group, say there were eight (8) missions by the crew in that time frame, including the May 14 and July 13 missions, yet Vic wrote home on July 13 that July 13 was his 13th mission. We may not straighten that out.) On August 1, 1943, they bombed Ploesti, Romania. They were shot down October 1, 1943, over Wiener-Neustadt, Austria. All but the pilot survived. He escaped from the Stalag Prison Camp during a forced march on April 8, 1945, and laid low for a month. While on the run and with enemy soldiers approaching, he knelt by a wooded shrine and said the Rosary (which was sent to him in prison camp by his Aunt Julia) while two Nazi soldiers walked past. The Rosary saved his life that day. He was protected by an Austrian farmer, while he "passed" as French to the farmer's wife and daughter. He was "trapped" in the farm's latrine (story related above). Armistice Day / Victory in Europe Day / V-E Day was May 8, 1945. He was later condemned by a U.S. Military Chaplain as having been AWOL because he'd escaped as a POW. LETTERS HOME: During his time of service, he wrote a total of 86 letters to his Mother and Father, which his mother dutifully saved and denoted as to their arrival dates, not to mention so many other letters to immediate and extended family members, and many friends. His last letter home from England was dated June 17, 1943. Martha and John did not receive any letters from Victor between October 30, 1943 (last letter home from Africa) until April 4, 1944 (first letter home as a POW). His first letter home from Stalag XVII-B took five months to arrive. It was 2-1/2 years since he left home before he saw a photo of any family back home, and he received that in prison camp. His last two letters were written January 6, 1945, from the Stalag, and were received at home probably in March. At that time, his letters were taking about 2 months to reach DeKalb. With his last letters arriving in DeKalb in March, it would be well after May 8, 1945, until his parents and family would hear of his status as he was not "repatriated" at his former prison camp by Americans until, in his words, "a few days after the Armistice Declaration" (Letter to the Editor, June 1990, "The Flag Controversy"). It looks as though the POW's were, at first, allowed to write letters about once a month, later on writing twice a month. Everything was censored twice - once by the Germans and once by the Americans when they received the letters from the Germans. What day was it when he walked into his parents house on Augusta Avenue? He probably came home on the train from Chicago and may have been delayed in arriving while receiving specialized care in a military hospital following his ordeal as a POW. He made reference to July 13 being his 13th mission, in his own handwriting on the back of his 8X10 Flight Crew photograph which used to hang in his apartment. NOTE: A little conflicting information: On the back of the photo of his Flight Crew he wrote May 14, 1943, was his first mission, while he wrote home on July 21, 1943, that he had just flown his 13th mission. The Official Flight Records for Flight Crew 240172, 506th Bomb Squadron, 44th Group, say there were eleven (11) missions by the crew in that time frame, including the May 14 and July 21 missions, yet Vic wrote home on July 21 that that day was his 13th mission. We may not straighten that one out. But, to support the 21st mission-count: He wrote in an earlier letter to home, and he once told me, he was hoping to get stateside right after that October 1, 1943 mission, his 21st mission. It was a required break and a required 2-week furlough, being sent home for 2 weeks, after which he would be stationed somewhere non-combat. And of course, he said, he had to get shot down on his last mission! It is also possible he filled-in on other Missions whose Flight Crew needed a tail-gunner, but that's unlikely. Here's another WWII fact or two about Vic, and his POW experiences: He wrote a total of 86 letters to his Mother and Father, which Martha dutifully saved and denoted as to their arrival dates, not to mention so many other letters to immediate and extended family members, and many friends. His last two letters were written January 6, 1945, from the Stalag, and received probably in March. At that time, his letters were taking about 2 months to reach DeKalb. It looks as though the POW's were, at first, allowed to write letters about once a month, later on writing twice a month. Everything was censored twice - once by the Germans and once by the Americans when they received the letters from the Germans. With his last letter arriving in March, it would be well after Armistice Day, May 8, 1945, until his parents and family would hear of his status as he was not "repatriated" at his former prison camp by Americans until, in his words, "a few days after the Armistice Declaration" when he was "looking for transportation" (Letter to the Editor, June 1990, "The Flag Controversy"). 44th Bomb Group Roll of Honor and Casualties 1 October 1943 www.44thbombgroup.com Page 136 July 2005 edition 506th Sq., #42-72857 Bar-X, Olson STAR SPANGLED HELL 506th Squadron Crew: OLSON, STANLEY F. Pilot lst Lt. Salt Lake City, Florence, ASN 0-730588 KIA WOM Utah ROBERTS, EDGAR W. Co-pilot Flight Officer San Jose, ASN T-357 POW California ALLEN, RONALD S. Jr. Navigator Capt. Wagoner, ASN 0-408633 POW Oklahoma HANSON, CHESTER B. Bombardier 2nd Lt. Ft. Dodge, ASN 0-667289 POW Iowa GOODSON, WALTER N. Engineer S/Sgt. Evansville, ASN 35255236 POW Indiana HEARNE, ALLIE T. Jr. Radio Operator T/Sgt. Jasper, ASN 18059989 POW Texas BELL, J. R. Asst. Engineer S/Sgt. San Bernardino, ASN 39094739 POW California FERKAUFF, OSCAR Armorer S/Sgt. Kansas City, ASN 38157563 POW Missouri BUGYIE, STEVE F. Ball Turret S/Sgt. Exeland, ASN 16131104 Evadee, POW Wisconsin McMENAMIN, VICTOR A. Tail Turret S/Sgt. DeKalb ASN 16037239 POW Illinois 1st Lt. Stanley F. Olson was the pilot of this 506th Squadron aircraft. The MACR states: “Approximately 125 to 150 enemy aircraft made vicious attacks on this formation in the target area at 1140 hours. It was hit individually by five Me 109s with nose and passing attacks, very close. This aircraft dropped its bombs and peeled off to the right and was still pursued by five fighters. No chutes observed.” Steve Bugyie, ball turret operator, adds, “I think that I may have been the last one to depart the airplane - and the first to hit the ground. I delayed pulling my ripcord until the last minute and this, according to Vic McMenamin, tail gunner, may have saved my life. Vic was adjusting his harness when I came out of the ball turret, and he accidentally dropped my chest pack chute down into the turret. I had to crawl back into the turret to retrieve it. Victor claims that he pulled his ripcord right away and saw the ship blow into pieces. “Due to the flames from the burning bomb bay tank, we do not know who left the plane last. Bell and Ferkauff, the waist gunners, were already gone. It may be that reports of only eight chutes accounts for my being reported as missing in action. I was loose for four days and made about 120 kilometers due west. “After I got to the ground, my face felt like I had a bad sunburn. The fires were so intense that there was molten aluminum stuck to my face. The molten metal and exploding aircraft may account for the many holes that I had observed in my parachute. “I did not normally belong to Olson’s crew, as I was flying as a spare gunner for that day only. I was the regular assistant engineer with Lt. Bunce. Lt. Olson may have stayed with the airplane too long as no one ever saw or heard of him again. I think that I had 15 missions when I went down.” 1 October 1943 44th Bomb Group Roll of Honor and Casualties www.44thbombgroup.com Page 137 July 2005 edition Due to the flames from the burning bomb bay tank, we do not know who left the plane last. Lt. Olson may have stayed with the airplane too long as no one ever saw or heard of him again. Bell and Ferkauff, the waist gunners, were already gone. Up in the nose of the ship, Ron Allen could see the fire in the bomb bay, and was preparing to go out through the nose wheel doors. He snapped on his chest harness chute and moved toward the doors. He recalls: ‘Suddenly I was stopped. I had forgotten to disconnect my communications and oxygen equipment. I quickly disconnected them and jumped. The fires singed my wrists, jacket and hair. As I drifted down, I looked up to see my parachute was full of holes. I didn’t know if I had pulled the ripcord too soon. The chute may have struck the ball turret guns as I went by. There was also the possibility that the turret gunner may have put a few holes in the chute since he was still in the turret and firing.” On the flight deck, Goodson and Hearne were both burned by the fires that were raging in the bomb bay when they jumped. Goodson also had quite a chunk of skin torn loose when he hit the catwalk in the bomb bay. Norm Kiefer remembers there were a lot of planes, both bombers and fighters that were burning in the target area. Around this time, Ron Allen and Steve Bugyie were drifting to the ground in their parachutes. Ron reports: “I jumped at 11:45 when our aircraft was at 16,500 feet (we should have been at 22,000 over the target). It was 12:00 noon when I reached the ground. I was hungry, tired, and disgusted. I had an escape kit, but it was not intended to be used in this area. It had Francs in it rather than money that was appropriate to this area. I had an apple that I had obtained the night before. That was all I had to eat for three days except for berries that I could scrounge. On that third day, I was in a thinly wooded area. As I was lying down trying to figure out what to do to get across a road, I suddenly heard a stick pop behind me. When I turned to look, I saw an Austrian army doctor. I later learned that he was on leave from the Russian front. “The doctor was with his family visiting a farm. The doctor could speak English just as well as I could. He sat down and we visited a while. At one point, the doctor said, ‘Well, the war is going to be over in about 18 months.’ He then went back to rejoin the others. He didn’t attempt to capture me. He told his wife about me and they discussed what to do. He brought me something to eat. He then told me that they had decided, for their own protection, to turn me in. We went to the farmhouse and they gave me some warmed milk. Having been brought up on a dairy farm, warm milk just did not appeal to me. “One of the farm girls said something and the doctor broke out laughing. He slapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Do you know what she said?’ I replied, ‘I have no idea.’ The doctor then told me, ‘The girl thinks you are good looking.’ There I was, unshaven and my clothing was filthy. What did she see? “The farmer sent a boy that was about 12 years old for the local constabulary. They put me in the local jail and all the kids from around that town hooted at me. I don’t know whether or not they were making fun of me.” Steve Bugyie continues: “When I came down, I landed in quite a large pine tree. In order to get down, I had to climb on the shroud lines and broke the top of the tree off. When I hit the ground, I am certain that I was unconscious for a short period of time. When I woke up, I hid in some evergreens. It was fairly late in the afternoon when I heard the whistles of the Germans who were out searching for me. I took off in a westerly direction heading for Switzerland. It was then that I made the rule that I would only travel at night. 44th Bomb Group Roll of Honor and Casualties 1 October 1943 www.44thbombgroup.com July 2005 edition Page 138 “When I stopped, I found a haystack and went to sleep in it. I was startled awake when I heard a blast from an 88-mm antiaircraft gun. There apparently was a German encampment near there. It was daylight, but I went back to sleep and slept most of the day. When I tried to look out of the stack, I couldn’t see anything. It was mostly an open field in front of me. “As soon as the sun went down, I took off again. I was loose for three nights and four days. By walking and trotting, from sundown to sunup, I was able to make 190 kilometers (about 120 miles). The next to last night I was loose, I couldn’t find any cover so I slept in a small hay field behind a tavern. It was around noontime when I heard some rustling in the grass next to me. When I looked, I saw a water spaniel smelling me. About 50 yards away was a German hunter, an old fellow with a shotgun. I just lay there and the hunter walked on. When night fell, I took off again. “I was weak from dysentery as well as the lack of food and water. It was on the fourth day when I approached some people. I was hoping that I could get some help. I spoke to them in German. After a brief conversation, they spoke to one of the people in Hungarian, or some other language. I thought they were sending for food. Instead, they went to bring the Home Guard. The next thing I knew, I was surrounded. I was taken back to Wiener Neustadt. On the following day, Lt. Matson, a pilot from the 389th and I were transported to Dulag Luft.” Vic was honorably discharged at San Antonio, TX, from the U.S. Army Air Forces as a Staff Sergeant in October of 1945.
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