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Questions about the website? Announcements! Information for the membership! Send an email to President, Bonnie Crane Hellums bstith@ix.netcom.com or Webmaster, Sid Underwood sidunderwood@prodigy.net. Send a letter or email and we will post it to this webpage. Contact information is on the Officers webpage.

Subject: Richard E. Dunkleberger, 20th Sqdn, who was KIA on 5th mission over Brux, Cz on July 21, 1944

Noted your reunion notice in my latest issue of MOAA. Though I did not belong to the 2nd Bomb Group, my cousin Richard E. Dunkleberger was a member of the 2nd Bomb Group, 20th Bomb Squadron operating out of Amendola, Italy during WWII. He was co-pilot of a B-17, piloted by McKenzie. Their B-17 was jumped by a swarm of German fighters and the aircraft went down. Richard was KIA on his 5th mission over Brux, Czechoslovakia on July 21, 1944.

I am a recent member of the Association and I wrote a short story about my Grandfather whom I am very proud of. I recently honored him by flying in a B-17. Please accept this letter and photo for consideration on the web site.

was a B-17 tail gunner in the 15^th Air Force, 96^th Bomb Squadron, 2^nd Bomb Group. He flew missions from March 15, 1944 to July 20, 1944. These missions included Cassino, It, Ploesti, RO, Munich, GE, Memmingen, GE, Debrecen, HU, and many more. Some of his aircraft were named “Catherine the Great”, “Dark Eyes”, “Old Bird”, and “Silver Streak”. Thomas Ford was my Grandfather.

I was born 23 years after the end of WWII, but I was fortunate enough to hear first hand accounts from Pop on a regular basis. I can not remember a single time when I was in his presence that he did not speak of his beloved B-17 or those .50 caliber machine guns. It amazes me when I think of this considering I had heard stories about him having a rough time after his service. I know he spent some time in a Veterans Hospital and there are stories of him waking up crying some nights and other nights flicking the light switch on and off in his sleep as if to be dropping the bombs. Somehow he turned a corner and was able to speak proudly about WWII and his service, and speak he did.

Pop made the local paper during the War in an article that read “25 from Long Island made historic mission from Italy to Russia”. This was the first shuttle bombing raid over Nazi Europe utilizing an air base in Russia. He saved the clipping all those years and we found it in a drawer after he was gone.

Pop passed away on October 26, 1996. Just 2 months prior to his death he was awarded the Commemorative Medal, “The 50^th Anniversary of the Great Patriotic War” (World War II). This was issued by Russian President Boris Yeltsin. I can remember that time and how excited he was. He was invited to Russia to accept the award in person. Unfortunately Pop was unable to attend as he did not have a passport and could not have one issued in time.

On May 27, 2006 I took a flight in Pops honor on the B-17 Yankee Lady at the American Airpower Museum in Farmingdale, NY. It was a gift from my wife for my first Fathers Day. In my pockets I carried a photo of Pop with one of his crews, his air medal, a bomb safety pin, and one of his dog tags. It was an incredible experience and left me wishing he was there with me. I guess in a way part of him was there. You see, my wife and I both have brown eyes but our daughter Grace has blue eyes. They say for her to have blue eyes it had to be on both sides of the family. Pop was the only one on my side with blue eyes. Grace was only 3 months old at the time of my flight but she was at the AAM watching it through those bright blue eyes. Maybe, just maybe, Pop was watching through them too.

Willi Reschke was born on 3 February 1922 at Mühlow in the Crossen region of Mark Brandenburg. After pilot training, Unteroffizier Reschke was transfered to I./JG 302 based at Götzendorf near Wien on 20 June 1944 . On 2 July he achieved his first success when he shot down two B-24s over Budapest. He rammed the next B-24 he downed on 7 July at 11:55 near Malacky in Slovakia when his guns malfunctioned. He successfully baled out of his stricken aircraft. On 24 August, he claimed a further B-24 Liberator near Jindrichuv Hradec in Czechoslovakia at 12:40, but shortly after, during an attack on a second, his aircraft was hit by return fire. Reschke wanted to force-land with a dead engine, but P-51 Mustangs began pouring fire into his Bf 109 G-6 "White 10" and he had to use his parachute. On 29 August, he shot down a B-17 south of Zlin at 10:50. During the attack his Bf 109 G-6 "White 6" was fired on by other Bf 109 and Reschke had to force-land near Uhersky Brod. At the end of August 1944 he had 14 victories to his credit. After re-equipping with the Focke-Wulf 190 A-8, I./JG 302 was redesignated III./JG 301 on 30 September. In October the unit transfered to Stendal airport near Berlin. On 1 January 1945, Reschke downed a B-17 for his 22nd victory but was again hit by return fire and baled out of his Fw 190 A-8 "White 6". On 13 March, he was awarded the Deutsches Kreuz in Gold. In March he transferred to Stab JG 301. On 14 April, he flew a Ta 152 and claimed a RAF Tempest. On 20 April, he received the Ritterkreuz.
Willi Reschke flew about 48 combat missions in achieving 27 confirmed victories, 20 of them four-engined bombers. He was shot down 8 times, baling out 4 times, and was wounded once.

My father, Sgt John Stokan (Jake 2) was in the 96th Bomb Squadron. He wrote this after Mission #170 (March 30, 1944 to Sofia, Bulgaria, Industrial Center) where his best friend Raymond Bringolf (Jake 1) was killed. I don't know if there is a place for it on your website but I think it reflects what these guys went through. There is a page missing that I did read as a little boy and it was a very painful description of this mission and the lost lives. This was written in 1944 and it shows what these airmen felt at that time. Their plane was "Catherine the Great" (a.k.a. #231458 Ole Kate).

Subject: Joseph L Myers, 429th SQ, who was KIA on the 15th mission over Comiso, SI on May 26, 1943

I am the very proud daughter of Cletus and Ed Hardy who now reside in South Carolina. They are members of the greatest generation our country has ever known- the World War II Generation. We have just recently found your web site and organization!

My Dad is a new member to your 2nd Bomb Group Association and we are eager to help him enjoy participating in your activities. We were hoping that you may be able to connect him with the other members of his entire crew.

Every mission was heroic for all of the men in the WWII B-17's, with enemy radar, flak, enemy planes with their fire power, and the uncertainty of engine failure, or mechanical failure. Each time they took off, they were putting their lives on the line for their country and families. It was just up to Almighty God as to whether He would take them up on their offer. The stories of heroism would not be complete without including those men who continued to offer, mission after mission, without ever having to endure the horrors of a downed plane, or being taken prisoner by the enemy. For those heroes, our country can never repay the debt we owe. But for the heroes who are not as well sung; our country needs to sing for them too.

Here is how my Dad describes his experience and the pictures (not shown, couldn't be downloaded) I am sending to you.

"I was a member of the 15th Air Force, 2nd bomb Group, 96th Squadron stationed in Foggia, Italy. I was born 6-19-24 and was in the class of 44D pilot school. My training was in California. In my final month of training, I contracted Mononucleosis, (you probably know Mono was called "the kissing disease") and ended up in the hospital for 2 months before earning my wings. Because of this delay I did not go to England and the 8th Air Force with my original class but went on later to Italy in the 15th Air Force. This hospital stay probably saved my life. I arrived in Italy in 8-44 and the war ended 6-45. I flew about 11 missions.

I have enclosed 2 photographs. One shows our officers and crew members plus our plane in 1944. It was taken just before we left for the war. The other photo shows the 4 officers while at a reunion in New York City in 1984, posing the same way as they did in 1944. Note even the hand position is the same as the original picture which can be seen in the foreground. From Left to Right are Ronald Thompson, pilot (deceased); Maurice Edward Hardy, pilot; Wayne LaPoe, navigator (deceased); Ernesto G. Balloni, bombardier (address and condition unknown). "

Here are these stories- short- but full of the realism of just how young these men were as our country leaned so heavily on them. My Dad would love to see it on your web site or the newsletter. He would love to connect with other veterans. With these hopes in mind, I submit his stories.

This a copy of an e-mail that was sent to me by Perry Giles today. Perry has written this article. I think some could be interested in it as John Adair was the member of the #048 B-17G that went down on Aug. 29th 1944 near Krhov, Czech Republic, during the mission 263.

Roman

2006/10/13, Perry Giles

taken from the personal letters of John Adair and eyewitness accounts from the book "Mission No. 263"

This story will run in our local newspaper, the Waxahachie Daily Light this Sunday.

My name is John Hiram Adair. I was born in a white frame house in Forreston, the youngest of five children, and the only son of Johnie and William Adair. We lived on a farm a few miles east of town on Bullard Hill, and were members of the Forreston Methodist Church.

During the summers I helped out Dad on the farm. I went to school there in Forreston until my junior year, when my family moved over to Avalon. My friends from school call me Johnny, but my family calls me "Johnsy".

After graduating from Avalon High School, I went to Texas A&M College, where I joined the Army Reserve in December of '42. After one year in college, I was called to serve in June of '43, and I reported for active duty in the Army Air Corps.

My initial training was at Sheppard Air Field in Wichita Falls, and after that there was more training in Florida and then in Kingman, Arizona at the Aerial Gunnery School. Like a lot of the other "country boys", I was trained as a gunner, because we were better shots than those city boys. We did a lot of shooting at moving targets to hone our air-to-air firing skills.

In May of '44, it was on to Iowa at the Sioux City Army Air Base for combat crew training. When we arrived, they welcomed us with a band. Guess they thought that we needed a pepper-upper since we're fixing to go over in a couple of months.

I've been assigned to heavy bombardment and will be flying on a B-17 fortress. I'm with a good bunch of fellows and like them all fine so far. In my crew, we have four from Pennsylvania, one from Virginia, one from Massachusetts, one from Georgia, one from Wyoming, and the navigator is not with us yet. I hope he is from Texas.

At first I thought that I'd be the right waist gunner, but later I found out that I would have to take the tail guns. Being the tail-gunner was pretty rough. Known by some as "Tail End Charlie", it was a difficult spot. It was a tight little space, with lots of vibration, noise, cold, flying for hours down on your knees, with your legs doubled under you, and looking out through my small plexiglas box window.

Before takeoff, all the gunners would gather in the radio room and then after we were airborne, we would make our way to our stations. As the tail-gunner, I had to crawl past the tail wheel, dragging my parachute behind me, and crawl on hands and knees into the tail. Once we made it up to altitude, I had to plug in my electric flight suit to keep from freezing. This was no place for someone with claustrophobia.

One Sunday evening as I was leaving the mess hall, I looked up just in time to see my good friend from home, James King, walking past. We went to the PX and had a long visit. I hadn't seen him in 14 months, and it sure does a lot of good to meet someone that you used to run around with.

This Iowa countryside is some beautiful land for farming. The land is real black and these farmers have a corn patch for every cotton patch that we have back home. They have the nicest homes and more big barns and outhouses than Carter has liver pills.

I was supposed to make Corporal on the 15^th of June, but it didn't come through. My pilot messed up the paperwork. I sure could use the extra pay, it will be $28 a month more.

On the 20^th of June, we went on a high altitude gunnery mission over Rapid City, South Dakota, and I got sick as a horse. Riding the tail is certainly no picnic. I would much rather be a waist gunner.

I wrote to my folks and my sisters at every opportunity and very much anticipated all their letters from home. We were due a furlough before we had to go overseas, and I really looked forward to the chance to visit home once more after all this time living in crowded barracks. My leave finally came at the last of July, but it flew by before I knew it.

The first week of August our group received our orders and headed out for Europe. It was a long journey with many stops along the way. Once I was locking the tail wheel and I inserted the crank too soon, and got a real blow on the chin. It bled a good bit, but an inch higher and it would have knocked out all my front teeth. Don't think that it will leave a scar though.

Along the way, we spent some time in the far Northeast. On August 9^th we went swimming in one of the lakes up there and the water was really cold. We even did a little fishing and caught some small trout. I'll bet that there are a lot of lakes up there that have never even had a hook in them. It would have been swell if we could have stayed there a little longer.

By this time I had made Sergeant, and was drawing base pay, flying pay and a per diem for being away from my home base. I could take a lot of days like this at $10.30 a day, and I don't care how long I'm gone at this kind of money.

After several days of hard flying we finally arrived at the Amendola Airfield near Foggia, Italy. We were now part of the 2^nd Bomb Squadron, 2^nd Bomb Group of the 15^th Army Air Force.

It was pretty good here, enough to get by on anyway. I live in a tent with six other boys on my crew. We can fix it up in time so it'll be pretty nice. The food is much better than I expected, in fact it's better than lots of places that I trained in the States.

One day I went swimming in the Adriatic Sea, and I am getting a rather nice tan here on the east coast of Italy. We visited Foggia one day and its just awful, all the filth as such I've never seen before. Those people don't have enough to eat either.

It was now the 19^th of August and I haven't been sent on a raid yet, but it won't be long now from what I hear. We all looked forward to mail call more than anything else. Mail means a lot over here.

To my disappointment, my crew was split up as replacements for the other crews in the squadron. Oh well, I have no choice to make the best of the situation.

And then August 22^nd came my first mission. I was flying tail-gunner aboard the "Tail End Charlie" on a mission to Odertal Oil Refinery in Germany. The pilot was Charles Beecham, and I didn't get to know most of the other guy's names... I had a real case of the butterflies.

It was an 8-hour mission. There were no fighters in sight, but there was lots of flak over the target. The other guys said that it was only moderate flak, but it sure seemed bad to me... We hit the target real good.

My 2^nd mission came the very next morning aboard the "Lovely Lady" piloted by Lt. L. D. Campbell. The target that day was an industrial area at Vienna, Austria. This time there were German fighters making attacks through our formation. I'm not sure I hit anything though. At 400 mph, they were a lot harder to hit than the targets we shot at back in Arizona.

I had been told, and today I saw firsthand, that those German fighters really came after us tail-gunners. They knew that if they got the tail-gunner that our B-17s were just a sitting duck. I don't recall ever having the jitters so bad in my life.

On the 24^th I went up again, for the third day in a row, this time flying with 2^nd Lt. Thayne Thomas on the "Big Time". The mission that day took us to the oil refineries at Pardubice, Czechoslovakia. It was a long, long haul, and I saw a B-17 that had fallen behind the group get shot down by fighters.

The next four days I was off and spent a lot of time in the sack, as I was fairly worn out. I felt as though I was getting into the groove of this and doing a little better each time, but still it takes some getting used to with people up there shooting at me for three days in a row.

On August 29^th we were rousted out of bed at about 0330 hours. I stumbled over to the mess hall, but I can tell you that powdered eggs before 4 A.M. are not that appetizing. At the mission briefing we learned that our target for today was the Privoser Oil Refinery and the railroad marshaling yards at Moravska Ostrava in northern Czechoslovakia. Today I would be flying with 2^nd Lt. James Weiler on board the "Queen", but today I would be the right waist gunner and that was OK by me.

Finally, I wouldn't be back in the tail all by myself, and I quickly made friends with the left waist gunner. His name is Loren Byam, and he is from Wisconsin. I overheard some of the other guys say that today would be a milk run... Hope they are right.

A few minutes before 0600 hours we started our engines, and at 0614 the lead plane started rolling down the runway. All the others followed in thirty second intervals. As we climbed, we formed our seven planes into squadron formation and then the four squadrons maneuvered into a box formation, which provided the best defensive cover. These twenty-eight B-17's made up the 2^nd Bomb Group.

By the time all the different groups of the 15^th Air Force fell into line, there were 599 heavy bombers and 294 fighters on this mission. My group was flying tail end of the whole wing, and my squadron, the 20^th, was flying tail end squadron in our group, so there we were, right at the very back of this whole combat wing.

We headed north over the Adriatic Sea and had some cheese and crackers before gaining too much altitude when we had to put our oxygen masks on. Gradually we climbed to 28,000 feet. Our flight path took us over Yugoslavia and Hungary, and all was going well.

During the long flight our formation had stretched out considerably. Our group was lagging behind the others, and for some reason our squadron could never catch up with the rest of the 2^nd Bomb Group and get into proper formation. On top of that, all of our fighters had gone ahead to clear out the air over the target.

Our radioman had put Axis Sally on the intercom to listen to her music program. Then she broke in over the music and said "Good Morning to you men of the 2^nd Bomb Group. Today's your lucky day. Today you get shot down, but before you get shot down, I want to play you a song." It was called Franklin D. Roosevelt Jones. After hearing that, you could have knocked me over with a feather.

Just as we approached the I.P. (initial point) of our bomb run, the pilot called back for us to test our guns and put on our flak jackets and helmets. It was about then that we spotted a lone German fighter following us at a distance. He wasn't moving in, he was a spotter... We were being dogged!

At about 10:40 we were over the White Carpathian Mountains and flying at 22,000 feet. And then it started... Out from behind a cloud formation came wave after wave of German fighters, at 4 o'clock high. They were ME-109's and FW-190's, and their wings winking at me, was my first realization that we were being shot at.

All of the sudden there were tracers flying right past us, and wild chatter on the intercom. As I started to fire back, I saw "My Baby" on fire and start to go down in a flat spin. Fighters went screaming right past us. Then "Tail End Charlie" rolled over and exploded in a giant ball of fire.

I fired back at them the best I could... There were just too many. Must be 80 or 90 of them all around us! They came at us from every conceivable direction.

Shellfire started to explode all inside the plane. They were shooting 20mm cannons at us, and holes appeared in our wings and in our fuselage. A fire started on the wing! Our bomb bay doors swung open and the bombs were jettisoned.

Control cables started snapping all around me! I was hit and went down! Our plane started down on a leftward spiral. The intercom was dead. Acrid, thick smoke filled the inside and the plane shuddered and shook as she took more hits.

We started into a steep dive, and I had to grab on to something to keep from sliding forward. Maybe the pilot is diving us to put the fire out...

Our plane plunged down through the clouds picking up speed. Our co-pilot was the only one that was physically able to bail out before we hit.

It was a Tuesday, the 29^th, and I was only 20 years old.

Our 20^th squadron was wiped out that morning, all seven planes.

Remember us, for we were soldiers once, and young.

*The bodies of 28 American flyers were gathered and taken to the cemetery in the small town of Slavicin, Czechoslovakia and buried in a mass grave. Although their bodies were removed after the war by the U. S. Army, the local Czech people, who viewed these men as liberators, still hold a memorial service at the site every year on Aug. 29^th. The monument that they have erected to the American flyers ends with this verse, "And their ashes have returned to where it came from, and their soul has returned to the Lord who gave it to them".

The following picture of Skippy and his story of service was sent to us by Brian and Beverly Sullivan

Dave: After my first visit to the website, I realized that the story of Skippy was incomplete. When the Group came into the Field, Skippy would race down the hardstand for Spinning's plane. The day that Spinning did not return, the dog was disconsolate and finally returned to the tent area. The next day or so, the Groups had him charging down to the hardstand, only to be disappointed. After that, hearing the planes returning, he would start to get up and then stop and sag in sorrow. It was a very sad thing to watch, until someone going home took him back to Peg Spinning - Burt Thorman

Dick Drain from the 99th Bomb Group in Italy has assembled a listing of all crews in all the Groups of the 15th Air Force. He has offered to let the 2nd Bomb Group use a copy of this list covering the crews of the 2nd. This will give us the ability to access this database for information about any flyer, crew, mission, aircraft and/target flown by the 2nd BG from April 1943 to May 1945. We will keep you advised of progress.

PRIVATENo	Date	Time	A/c Type	Unit	Location / Comments
1.	2.7.1944	10:25	B-24	1./JG 302	Budapest
2.	2.7.1944	10:29	B-24	1./JG 302	Budapest
3.	7.7.1944	11:55	B-24	1./JG 302	Bratislava / Rammed
4.	13.7.1944	10:45	B-17	1./JG 302	Neusiedler See
5.	14.7.1944	9:55	B-24	1./JG 302	Budapest
6.	18.7.1944	10:53	B-24	1./JG 302	München
7.	18.7.1944	11:10	P-51	1./JG 302	München
8.	19.7.1944	9:57	B-17	1./JG 302	Starnberg
9.	16.8.1944	10:00	B-17	1./JG 302	Kassel
10.	20.8.1944	9:45	B-17	1./JG 302	Budapest
11.	20.8.1944	9:52	B-17 HSS	1./JG 302	Budapest
12.	22.8.1944	12:50	B-17 e.V.	1./JG 302	Balaton
13.	24.8.1944	12:40	B-24	1./JG 302	Neuhaus
14.	29.8.1944	10:50	B-17	1./JG 302	Ung. Brod
15.	21.11.1944	12:05	B-17	9./JG 301	Magdeburg
16.	26.11.1944	12:45	B-24	9./JG 301	Hildesheim
17.	17.12.1944	11:20	B-24	9./JG 301	Kassel
18.	17.12.1944	11:25	P-51	9./JG 301	Kassel
19.	24.12.1944	14:55	B-17	9./JG 301	Hannover
20.	24.12.1944	15:03	B-17	9./JG 301	Hannover
21.	31.12.1944	11:35	B-24	9./JG 301	Hamburg
22.	1.1.1945	12:00	B-17	9./JG 301	Gardelegen
23.	14.1.1945	12:45	P-51	9./JG 301	Mecklenburg
24.	14.1.1945	12:55	P-47	9./JG 301	Kyritz
25.	14.4.1945	19:20	Tempest	Stab JG 301	Ludwiglust / Tempest V (SN141) SA-U of 486 Sqn, RAF flown by W/O O Mitchell, killed
26.	24.4.1945	8:45	Yak-9	Stab JG 301	Berlin
27.	24.4.1945	8:48	Yak-9	Stab JG 301	Berlin

	The Crew of "Catherine the Great"
	Ray Bringolf (Jake 1), John Stokan (Jake 2)

	Ken W. Spinning and Skippy