Although I was not told so, I assume I was suffering from hypothermia,for I shivered and shivered and shivered. The nurses put hot water bottles around me and piled blankets on me, but I continued to shake. It was nearly dawn before I finally warmed up.
About the middle of the morning a nurse came in to tell us that our transportation to the 389th base had arrived. We had to remove the pajamas that the WREN hospital had provided and wrap ourselves in blankets brought from our base for the trip back to Hethel. We were stark naked beneath our blankets. We thought the English could at least have loaned us the pajamas for the trip home with the understanding they would be returned, but apparently their regulations forbade that. Such is the nature of red tape. The clothing we were wearing when picked up should have had time to dry, but we never saw it again. Perhaps it was returned to our supply, however.
I expected to see an ambulance waiting for us outside the hospital, but instead there sat a truck, of all things. Lt. Self was the only one transported in an ambulance. That was the longest thirty-mile ride I have ever taken. I was so weak that even sitting up in that rough-riding truck was almost more than I could manage; I was ready to collapse by the time we arrived at Hethel.
I suffered a skull fracture from the blow to the head and, three weeks later, developed spinal meningitis as a result of the time spent in the cold water. Thanks to penicillin, I recovered from the meningitis with no ill effects except for the complete loss of hearing in my right ear. When I walked into the CO's office to report after recovering from the meningitis, he looked up and said, "Don't tell the flight surgeon I told you this, but he told me not to expect you back."
That ended my flying. I spent the next six months as squadron gunnery sergeant before being returned to the States in October, 1944.
Lt. Locke later received the Distinguished Flying Cross for keeping the plane up in the formation with one engine out and another one damaged and bringing it back as far as he did. As he said to me, "Even if we had got back, those two engines would never have been used again!" Some may question its being possible for our plane to keep up. I see it as simply a tribute to the B-24's Pratt and Whitney engines and Lt. Locke's skill as a pilot.
One final footnote: had it not been for Capt. Bryant we might have made it back to Hethel. After we lost Virgil, our engineer, from our crew, Cappy had been assigned the responsibility of seeing that we used up the gas in the wing-tip tanks first when starting on a mission and then flipping the switch to the main tanks. With Cappy missing, the routine was upset, and Harold Freeman, our replacement engineer for the mission, forgot to use the auxiliary wing-tip tanks first before switching to the main tanks until we were out over the North Sea headed for the continent. At that time Harold started to get out of his top turret position to switch to those tanks, but Capt. Bryant ordered him back to the turret to watch for fighters. It would only have taken Harold a few seconds to switch to the wing-tip tanks and then, when that gas was about used up, another few seconds to switch back to the main tanks. No fighters could have sneaked up on us in that length of time; besides, the waist gunners could see almost all the sky covered by the top turret. Following the loss of our generators, no power was available to switch to the wing-tip tanks when we ran low on gas. Had Capt. Bryant not interfered, we would probably have had enough gas left in the main tanks to get us back to England. As Command Pilot, Bryant was commander of the formation, but not of our plane, which was Lt. Locke's responsibility. Bryant had no business interfering with Harold.. |
