"Grok, when are you going to finish that Mastodon drawing?"
"Soon, Blok, no later than the next full moon, or maybe the one after that, but soon!"
Needless to say, our school district's construction plan is not going to break mankind's record.
The teachers will be back a week from today. Most have already stopped in and their guaranteed question, "When can I move my stuff?" is wearing.
Just an update, in case anybody was wondering. So, as they used to say "On with the show".
As we saw a couple of weeks ago, 1943 was not a good year for the Army Air Forces. P-51's and drop tanks were starting to arrive in theater, but not in sufficient numbers to start establishing Air Superiority, much less the Air Supremacy they would have by D-Day.
This is a Keith Ferris mural in the Smithsonian Air and Space museum Source |
Daylight Bombing Raids were taking a severe beating. 60 bombers were lost on August 17 on raids to Schweinfurt and Regensburg. Figuring 10 men per, that's 600 lost (the site sourced provides an estimate that half were captured, but that's still a sizable dent in available manpower and weaponry.)
Even after that, and with escorts of Mustangs, the 8th AF bombers took losses. But in a war of attrition, the side with the most resources backed up with the strongest resolve (read stomach) usually wins. This was the case in WWII.
Unfortunately, individual participant's fate usually was determined by luck, although determination does play a role. At this point in the war, the average sorties completed before an aircrewman was lost to the effort was 11, far short of the 25 needed to complete a tour.
Which brings us to the subject of this weeks story. TSgt Forrest L. Vosler (Woody to his crew) had volunteered on graduation from High School to join the Army Air Forces. He'd wanted to be a pilot (who doesn't?), but failed the initial aptitude screening, so was trained as a radio operator on the B-17.
Not knowing much about what a radio operator did on a B-17 (on everything I flew, the radio operator, me, pushed the button and talked, occasionally changed the frequency, then pushed the button and talked.), this article helped me understand. Yes, he operated the radio, but was more of a spare crewman (and we'll get to why that was important). He did have a machine gun to man that fired out the top of the aircraft pointed aft. Here's the view.
TSgt Vosler had a few extra hoops to jump in order to arrive at his designated point of greatness. He was too tall for the Air Corps but managed to convince them that he was just barely over the limit and would adjust. The limit was 6', he was 6' 3".
It's now just before Christmas, 1943 and the Target for the day is Bremen.
500 Bombers are in the raid. (They would orbit over England for two hours getting into the attack formation.) Bremen had been attacked a few days before, and the mission had been comparatively easy. It was expected to be the same this time. Expectations rarely match reality.
TSgt Vosler's crew was on their 4th mission. As they Bomber Stream crosses the coastline, his bomber is hit by AAA (Hissss!) and loses an engine. Able to maintain formation, they continue on and release their ordnance. As they're clearing the target area, they're again hit by AAA and lose another engine.
Now, unable to maintain formation and the defensive firepower protection, they're attacked by fighters. The tail gunner (probably the most important crewmember besides the pilot) is severely injured and TSgt Vosler is injured by shrapnel from the attack.
After removing the tail gunner from his position, he takes over and resumes firing at attackers. During another attack, he also is severely injured and shrapnel has entered his eyes effectively blinding him.
The pilot takes the bomber down on the deck to minimize the attack vector and finally the fighters withdraw due to low fuel.
It's obvious to all concerned that the aircraft is not going to make it to England, so they start dumping stuff overboard to reduce weight. The pilot tells TSgt Vosler to make a position report to improve their chances of being rescued in the North Sea. When doing so, he realizes that the radio is inoperative.
Still blinded, he manages to repair the radio by touch and makes the report which is acknowledged by Air/Sea Rescue.
The aircraft successfully ditches and TSgt Vosler climbs out onto the wing dragging the badly injured tail gunner with him. He then manages to hold on to both the crew member and the aircraft until the rest of the crew readies the dinghy and helps them into it.
They are rescued shortly thereafter.
For his actions on this mission, he received the Medal of Honor from FDR.
Source |
The first two sources below, contain much more detailed descriptions of the mission and are worth your time to read.
I found this section from the first source to be comforting.
"They're not playing the game right, hitting a guy in the eyes," Vosler recalled as being his first thought in that horrible moment. "I couldn't see well, but when I moved my hand down to my chest where I'd been hit--I was trying to open my jacket to find out how badly--I noticed that my hand was shaking. I couldn't control it. Then I reached up and dragged my hand across my face to see if there was blood, and when I looked at it my whole hand was covered with blood.
"The shell fragments had damaged the retina of my right eye, and I was seeing blood streaming down the retina inside my eye, thinking it was on the outside. So my natural feeling was that I had lost the whole side of my face...I thought I only had half a face.
"I became extremely concerned, I was out of control, really. Obviously I wasn't going to have a chance to get out of this thing now. I knew I was going to die. I knew my life was coming to an end. The fear was so intense, it's indescribable, the terror you feel when you realize you're going to die and there's nothing you can do about it. So I started to lose control, and I knew then that I was either going to go completely berserk and be lost, or something else would happen.
"And a strange thing DID happen. I lived every day of my life. I relived my whole life, day by day, for 20 years. It put everything in perspective. For the first time I realized what a wonderful, wonderful life I had had. There were only a few days in my whole life that were bad, and I asked God to forgive me for those bad days, and thanked Him for all the many wonderful days he had given me. I said, 'I'm not going to ask you for any more days. It's been too nice.' I even reached out my hand and said, 'Take me, God, I'm ready.'
I became very content, very calm, very collected. I no longer feared death, which is a terrible thing to fear. And I slowly realized that if God didn't want to take me at that particular point, then I had to go on and do the best things I could do."Over the course of writing this series of posts, comments like that are a clear indication that the Recipient survived the action. Indeed, TSgt Vosler survived, but his injuries were severe enough to end his war. Multiple surgeries eventually returned his sight and health (with the donation of a healthy eye from a living donor). He spent his post-military career as a counselor with the VA before passing away in 1992.
Rest in Peace, Warrior!
TSgt Vosler's Commendation.
For conspicuous gallantry in action against the enemy above and beyond the call of duty while serving as a radio operator-air gunner on a heavy bombardment aircraft in a mission over Bremen, Germany, on 20 December 1943. After bombing the target, the aircraft in which T/Sgt. Vosler was serving was severely damaged by antiaircraft fire, forced out of formation, and immediately subjected to repeated vicious attacks by enemy fighters. Early in the engagement a 20-mm. cannon shell exploded in the radio compartment, painfully wounding T/Sgt. Vosler in the legs and thighs. At about the same time a direct hit on the tail of the ship seriously wounded the tail gunner and rendered the tail guns inoperative. Realizing the great need for firepower in protecting the vulnerable tail of the ship, T/Sgt. Vosler, with grim determination, kept up a steady stream of deadly fire. Shortly thereafter another 20-mm. enemy shell exploded, wounding T/Sgt. Vosler in the chest and about the face. Pieces of metal lodged in both eyes, impairing his vision to such an extent that he could only distinguish blurred shapes. Displaying remarkable tenacity and courage, he kept firing his guns and declined to take first-aid treatment. The radio equipment had been rendered inoperative during the battle, and when the pilot announced that he would have to ditch, although unable to see and working entirely by touch, T/Sgt. Vosler finally got the set operating and sent out distress signals despite several lapses into unconsciousness. When the ship ditched, T/Sgt. Vosler managed to get out on the wing by himself and hold the wounded tail gunner from slipping off until the other crewmembers could help them into the dinghy. T/Sgt. Vosler's actions on this occasion were an inspiration to all serving with him. The extraordinary courage, coolness, and skill he displayed in the face of great odds, when handicapped by injuries that would have incapacitated the average crewmember, were outstanding.
Sources:
http://www.homeofheroes.com/wings/part2/13_vosler.html
http://www.historynet.com/die-standing-staff-sgt-forrest-l-vosler.htm
http://www.303rdbg.com/crew-duties.html
https://www.quora.com/What-was-the-radio-operators-job-on-a-bomber-in-WWII-Who-would-he-be-communicating-to-and-where-was-he-positioned-on-the-bomber/answer/Kelly-La-Rue
http://theirfinesthour.blogspot.com/2013/12/tfh-1220-technical-sergeant-forrest-l.html
Title Quote Source Statement by TSgt Vosler upon medical retirement while the war was still going on.