History of the 474th Fighter Group Part 14 Second Mission July 6, 1944 OPFLASH E-83 ordered the group back to the same Le Mans-Tours-Chartres area, which appeared to be target rich. Again the 428th would be flying top cover over the 429th and 430th squadrons, and again, carrying a single belly tank under the right wing. Several grumbles met the briefing officer over this news but the men were reminded that the Germans had been showing more activity in the air. Beyond the walls of the briefing room could be heard the thunder of P-38s being ground tested by their attending crews. One hundred eighty-six miles southeast of Warmwell and three miles northwest of the French city of Alençon, another briefing was ending at the German fighter base at Lonrai. Oberleutnant Wolfgang Ernst of 9th Staffel (squadron), JG 77, I. Gruppe and the three other pilots in his Schwärme (flight) were directed to conduct a fighter sweep with seven other FW-190s of JG11 patrolling east-southeast past Mamers and continued on to Nogent-le-Rotrou before swinging north and west back to Lonrai. A number of other fighter planes would be in the vicinity as well. The pilots of 9/JG77 had transitioned to FW-190s from ME-109s but on average had only six hours of training. The 474th took off from Warmwell at 2:16pm and assembled over Weymouth Bay before proceeding to France. As they headed in a south-southeast direction over the channel, the three squadrons increased their altitude to 9,000 feet. The skies had been hazy when they left Warmwell but cleared as they approached the French coastline. The three squadrons passed over the Cherbourg Peninsula and the wreckage of St. Lo, flying to the north of Alençon, south of Le Mans, and into their target area at 3:50pm. At 3:35pm Oberleutnant Wolfgang Ernst, one of Germany’s leading aces, was taking off from the field at Lonrai, his Schwärme following. They flew northwest for a short period before turning to the west and then southeasterly towards Mamers. The 429th and 430th broke from the group to begin their bombing runs, while the 428th split up to provide cover. Targets were plentiful, and the pilots of the 428th could hear the voices of their comrades over the radio as they called out targets. Perhaps it was the excited calls from the 429th and 430th squadrons -- and the absence of a Luftwaffe response on so many missions -- that drew the Red” and “Yellow” flights of the 428th down. They decided to join their brother squadrons in attacking the Germans, leaving “Blue” flight alone to cover the 474th Fighter Group. High above, the four P-38s of “Blue” flight had been flying ovals over the 429th squadron. Nearing 4:15pm, 1st lieutenant James “Jimmie” Frederick, Jr. and 2nd lieutenant Robert “Bob” Rubel were approximately five miles west of Nogent-le-Rotrou, flying at 8,000 feet. Watching the planes of the 429th, dipping their wings now and then to see what was happening below them, scanning the sky, constantly swiveling their heads looking for a speck that might signify an enemy plane, they turned toward the north-northwest. Some distance behind them was Captain Hewitt and Lt. Huser. At 4:15pm, 9th Staffel, JG 77 caught up with lieutenants Frederick and Rubel. Feldwebel Loch lined up on Bob’s P-38 and depressed his cannon and machine gun button. Frederick snapped his head to the right in time to see shell strikes on both of Bob’s booms and engines. Fire and black smoke spewed from his P-38. Smoke filled the cockpit and his plane tilted to the right and began descending. Oberleutnant Ernst lined up on Frederick and fired. Explosive rounds ripped into the right engine, setting it on fire. Gas vapors flooded the cockpit and ignited enveloping his body. Captain Hewitt and Lt. Huser sped to the area, calling out to the other squadrons for help. They engaged three of the FW-190’s in a head-on pass. Lt. Huser damaged one of the FW-190’s but suffered damage to one of his rudders. As they flew past the Germans, Captain Hewitt saw additional FW-190s. He radioed Lt. Huser to break away. Lt. Rubel’s P-38 continued to plummet. Several hundred feet above the ground the belly and gas tanks exploded scattering man and machine parts over 175 square yards. Bob’s body was shredded. All that was recovered were one of his hands, still holding the yoke of his plane along with his leather flight helmet containing a portion of his scalp and hair as well as part of a leg. The 429th rushed to assist blue flight. Frederick had managed to flip his stricken plane, pop the canopy and release his safety harness before dropping from his plane and opening his parachute. Oberleutnant Ernst saw this and circled back intent on killing Frederick as he hung helpless. On his first pass he fired and missed and started to come around again. Bob Milliken, who had engaged several other FW-190’s happened to witness this as he was chasing another Fw-190. He broke from that pursuit, dove and engaged Ernst before he reached Frederick. Ernst led Milliken in a wide, horizontal, 360-degree flight that skimmed the ground and tree tops, narrowly avoiding power lines, but Milliken followed every move. He fired short bursts, hitting the FW-190 again and again. Finally he hit home, destroying the control panel in front of Ernst. Ernest decided it was time to go. By then, the planes were again approaching Lt. Frederick. Ernst jettisoned his canopy and slid onto the left wing where the force of the wind blew him off and into the plane’s rudder, breaking his right arm. He managed to pull the ripcord and his chute opened. On the Ground a tiny boy named Jean Claude (JC) Clouet played next to his parent’s home. He had been born on May 11, 1942, after the Germans had invaded his country. A short distance away, small fountains of dirt and grass popped up from the ground. Looking up, the little boy saw a sight he had never seen before. Floating down, moving east to west, a man dangled under a vast white blanket. The boy had no words for this scene. His mother, alarmed by the noise and bullets, ran from the house, calling her son. As she scooped him up, JC pointed to the sky saying, “Look at that daisy there.” Mrs. Clouet saw Lt. Frederick disappear behind some trees to the northeast of their home. Then she hustled her son to relative safety inside. Lt. Frederick he hit the ground in a field, rolled, and scrambled to his feet. The adrenaline coursing through his body made him impervious to the pain on his face and f the second and third degree burns that circled his wrists and ankles. Movement in the air caught his eye. He saw Ernst parachuting into a field to the north. Frederick pulled his service revolver from its holster, intent on killing the enemy. Holding the grip in one hand, he reached to pull the slide with the other. His severely burned wrist was too weak to pull the slide. He changed hands, with the same result. Suddenly he wanted to flee instead of fight. He saw some trees to the west, but suspected that they surrounded fields, as this was common in the countryside of Normandy. To the east were more substantial looking woods. Taking a last look toward the spot the enemy had landed, Frederick turned and ran toward what he hoped was safety. Frederick crashed through the tree line of the woods, running, stumbling, righting himself and plunging deeper. After several more minutes he slowed, then stopped to catch his breath. For a while he stared at his boots. Replacing his shoelaces were burned, crisscrossed lines. Gingerly, he unstrapped his watch. The crystal had melted into the face. He began to feel the pain from his charred wrists and ankles. Pushing on into the woods, he spied a small cottage hidden by trees. He crept closer and hid in the bushes. He waited, watching for any movement within. He examined the cottage for some time before realizing it was a converted railway freight car or wagon. He waited for half an hour, looking for any sign of life but the forest remained quiet. Slowly and quietly he crawled through the underbrush, keeping himself hidden as much as possible. Finally, when he was close to the door, he stood up and tried it, but found it locked. Walking around a corner he discovered an open window. He crawled through the opening, closing the window once inside. A half mile to the east, a French Resistance worker by the name of Suzanne Schneider witnessed the air battle along with two of her compatriots. She also kept a journal. In part she wrote: Thursday, July 6, 1944 – 10:00 in the evening. I do not want to go to bed without noting down some of the impressions of the day. In spite of fatigue, I have no desire to sleep. I should like this to be tomorrow morning already, in order to know how the child passed the night who came down from the sky and is sleeping in the shelter 200 meters from here. It is noon. Pottier returns from his rounds with communiqué and announced to me that an animal which he is keeping got out and we will go together to look for it in the woods this afternoon. At 3:00 o’clock we go out in the wagon; we look for an hour and have found nothing. Arriving at the top of Valheureux (a high spot on the road to Montmerrei and east of Suzanne’s cottage), a plane battle suddenly broke out; a double fuselage (plane of Robert Rubel) came down in flames with a frightful crash. Two enemy planes fall in flames. A second double fuselage (plane) bursts into flames in its turn, but instead of falling heavily as the first, it continues its course at a height of about three kilometers (about a mile and a half). After several seconds appeared the Allied parachutist who came down easily. But what a horror! A German plane goes toward him with the intention probably of bringing him down. Marcel (Collet), Roger (Collet), Pottier and I turn around among the oak trees to avoid the bullets coming over us. In my life I shall not forget this sentence of Marcel’s. “Look, everyone, it is marvelous. In fact an unforgettable spectacle was presented to our eyes, horrified at first, them marveling. A third double fuselage (plane flown by Robert Milliken) with a sudden movement brought down the German plane which had not been able to reach the parachutist whom we saw still coming down easily. Anguish caught us again. The German parachutist comes down in his turn and appears to be not more than ten meters (about 30 feet) above our ally. Provided they do not meet on solid ground, the German would kill the American. Such is their custom. The fight lasted twelve to fifteen minutes. Two Allies destroyed and five Germans. We left, each in his own direction. The collaborators are even more feared than the Germans. The Val du Malheureux (The poor cottage where Suzanne lived) is waiting for me with the Maquis. In a few minutes I returned (to her cottage). I had locked the door, but because of the heat the windows were open. O.K.? “Return”, I replied, “the way is clear”, thinking I was dealing with my friends, the Maquis. The curtain which is in front of the bed moved, and I see something I wished appear to my raptured eyes. No, I am going crazy, and nevertheless, those two hands stretched towards me. I took the hands. It is true, the dear American child is there, burned badly, but so happy in spite of his suffering that he must endure. How I want to take him in my arms. He began to put on the pomade (salve). I help him take off his contraption (flight suit), his revolver. I bandage him. My hands are trembling. Never have I seen such burns. He eats some eggs, takes some tablets in a little cider, drinks some coffee with cream, and combs his hair before the glass. He makes me understand that he is happy because neither his eyes nor his chest are touched. For an hour we talked. He has already retained many French words and when I advise him to rest, he stretches out on the bed, where I hope with the permission of the master of the place he will pass the night. How happy I am, but how he must suffer. The perspiration runs down his face. His eye lids are beginning to swell. Now he is not secure here. We must take him to the shelter in the woods where no one will find him. People are very comfortable there. I spent the night there. I slept well. This day leaves a good impression on me. I was not afraid. Tomorrow I will organize the life of this child. I will call him by his name. Tonight I can only wish him good night. Good night, dear child, a French woman watches over you.
Posted on: Tue, 15 Jul 2014 23:37:19 +0000
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