looking for record of relative killed in WW2

[Guest FAFTS]

Hi guys. I'm one of the regional pilots who joined here when we had our poser become national news. Please forgive me if I'm asking a dumb question.

Last week I was in my local library and picked out a book on the first Schweinfurt raid in 1943. As I was reading it, I remembered that my grandmother had once mentioned that she lost a cousin on a mission to Schweinfurt. This book has a detailed but incomplete list of casualties and my relative is not mentioned there. Of course, he could have been killed on a later mission.

So. I've been wondering if anyone knows of an office anywhere in the Air Force or Army that might be able to tell me something about this guy. I currently only have his name and the claim that he died on a mission to Schweinfurt but I might be able to get more info if needed.

Any help would be greatly appreciated. Thanks in advance.

Edited May 10, 2010 by FAFTS

[brickhistory]

Try the National Archives and Records Administration. Word of warning however, a lot, I mean a lot, of WWII individual records were lost during a massive fire at the St Louis facility in the early 1970s.

Following that, there are loads of WWII sites

Army Air Forces

as but one good one.

[Guest FAFTS]

Fast and useful stuff, brick. Thanks. Those look like just the kind of thing I need.

Many thanks!

[MKopack]

You can also do a search through the American Battle Monuments Commission at: https://www.abmc.gov/home.php

If he was buried overseas he may have a listing, and it's done via a simple name search. I was able to find my Dad's uncle:

Michael C. Kopack

Sergeant, U.S. Army

Service # 32146019

696th Field Artillery Battalion

Entered the Service from: Pennsylvania

Died: 29-Sep-44

Buried at: Plot C Row 26 Grave 94

Lorraine American Cemetery

St. Avold, France

Awards: Silver Star, Purple Heart with Oak Leaf Cluster

As well as the Uncle of a good friend from work:

Peter Donald Lambrecht

Tucson, Arizona

Born December 22, 1912

Colonel, U.S. Marine Corps

Service Number 05458

Missing in Action - Presumed Dead

Died August 15, 1952 in Korea

Colonel Lambrecht was a veteran of World War II. In Korea, he was the pilot of a F3D-2 Douglas Skynight fighter with the Marine Night Fighter Squadron 513, Marine Air Group 33, 1st Marine Air Wing. On August 15, 1952, while on a night combat mission over the Yellow Sea about 50 miles west of Pyongyang, North Korea, radio and radar contact was lost. He was listed as Missing in Action and was presumed dead on January 7, 1954. His remains were not recovered. His name is inscribed on the Courts of the Missing at the Honolulu Memorial. For his leadership and valor, Colonel Lambrecht was awarded the Legion of Merit, the Distinguished Service Cross with 2 Gold Stars, the Air Medal with 8 Gold Stars, the Purple Heart, the Combat Action Ribbon, the Korean Service Medal, the United Nations Service Medal, the National Defense Service Medal, the Korean Presidential Unit Citation, the Republic of Korea War Service Medal and the World War II Victory Medal.

With that info it might be possible to cross reference to information that may not have been lost in the fire, if his in fact was.

Michael P. Kopack

[Guest FAFTS]

https://www.abmc.gov/home.php

Possible hit! The middle name is different than what my grandmother told me but I did some searching on his group and date of death and someone with his first and last name did die during a raid on Schweinfurt. I think this may be my guy! Turns out (if it's the same person) he was a 1st Lt. I was thinking he was probably a gunner.

[brickhistory]

Mkopeck, Silver Star? Respect.

FAFTS, it's always interesting to know what you find out if you ever post the entire story here.

[C130GuardBum]

The 8th AF museum in Savannah, GA also has alot of records. Might want to check them out.

[Guest FAFTS]

Sherman M. Dodge

First Lieutenant, U.S. Army Air Forces

Service # O-797491

331st Bomber Squadron, 94th Bomber Group, Heavy

Entered the Service from: Massachusetts

Died: 14-Oct-43

Buried at: Plot C Row 13 Grave 41

Lorraine American Cemetery

St. Avold, France

Awards: Silver Star, Purple Heart

Unfortunately, there's no more history listed there, but this gives me a starting point for more detailed research.

As I said, the middle initial is different from what I was told, but my family is from the northeast and he's the only Sherman Dodge listed in that database. From what I've been able to find in the last few minutes, the 331st also bombed Schweinfurt on the day he died. I'll have to call Grandma tomorrow for more information on her cousin and visit the local NARA branch soon.

Huh! Looks like my possible relative and MKopack's are pretty close to each other. Small world.

Many thanks again, guys! I started out just mildly curious, but now I think I'll have to dig into this much deeper. He's the only relative I know of who died in combat. I think I'd like to know more about him.

[MKopack]

Hope you don't mind me looking, but doing a quick search, I've got Sherman M. Dodge listed at:

Home of Heroes.com, USAAF Silver Star Listing:

Dodge, Sherman M. HQ, 8th Air Force, G.O. No. 533 (1944)

and at:

USAF Incident and Accident Personnel List 1943 at accident report.com They claim to be able to possibly get you a copy of the accident report of the loss. Of course if they can, you could probably do it yourself through the National Archives, AF Museum, etc...

and at:

The Dodge Family Association, Dodges Who Fought For Their Country World War II - The Ultimate Sacrifice

Sherman M. Dodge, Winchester, Massachusetts

U.S. Army; 1st Lieutenant. A B-17 Pilot Assigned To The 331st Bomb Squadron, 94th Bomb Group, Stationed In Bury St. Edmunds, England. His Aircraft Was One Of The 60 U.S. Aircraft That Was Shot Down On 'Black Thursday' October 14, 1943. He Is Buried At The Lorraine American Cemetery, St. Avold, France, Plot: C Row: 13 Grave: 41

Awards: Silver Star, Purple Heart Awarded The Silver Star And Purple Heart Medals For His Bravery. Submitted by William A. Dodge, III, nephew, and ABMC Cemeteries

Edited May 10, 2010 by MKopack

[MKopack]

Pushing on, according to a post on http://forum.armyairforces.com (Could Brick have been any more right on that?!?) 1st Lt. Sherman M. Dodge was lost on October 14th 1943 piloting B-17F-45-DL Serial Number: 42-3338

And on another post:

The aircraft 42-3338 commanded by Lieutenant DODGE crashed in ESSEY et MAIZERAIS in France on October 14, 1943 in

Long 05 ° 49 '47 "E

Lat 48 ° 53 '55 "N

There were five dead and five prisoners.

B-17F-45-DL 42-3338 QE - P 'No Known Name'. Missing Aircrew Report 791. Crew:1st Lt. Sherman M. Dodge. Pilot - KIA.2nd Lt. John T. Chandler. Co-Pilot - POW.2nd Lt. Frank J. Francis. Navigator - KIA.2nd Lt. James K. D. Becker. Bombardier - POW.S/Sgt. James V. Festa. Top Turret Gunner/Engineer - POW.S/Sgt. Douglas McClendon Jr. Radio Operator - POW.Sgt. Louis J. Buonarobo. Ball Turret Gunner - KIA.Sgt. Robert M. Thomas. Left Waist Gunner - POW.Sgt. Warren G. Butterfield. Right Waist Gunner - KIA.Sgt. James Menaul Jr. Tail Gunner - KIA.

Dodge: O-797491 from MA Pilot class: BY 43B

photo taken in Pendleton, Oregon on 20 Aug. '43.

REAR: Butterfield (KIA), Festa (EVD), Thomas (POW), Menaul (KIA), Buonarobo (KIA), McClendon (EVD)

FRONT: Francis (KIA), Dodge (KIA), Chandler (EVD), Becker (EVD)

Evadees made it to Switzerland and were interned there. The latest info has 42-3338 QE-P as "Polecat"

Edited May 10, 2010 by MKopack

[Guest FAFTS]

Holy crap, MKopack!! That is an above and beyond effort. I knew that there was a lot of information on the internet but I had no idea that it went that far. Now I'm really hoping that this guy is my relative. I might belong to a family association! (Not to mention I'd like to learn how this guy got the Silver Star.) I would have never suspected such a thing!

Some of you folks seem to be interested so, if you want, I'll make a promise to post what I learn.

Thanks for all the effort.

[MKopack]

You're welcome - just another reason to be thankful on this upcoming Memorial Day. Here are a couple of other websites with information:

Crash du B-17 Fortress F-45-DL - 42-3338 QE-P "A" "Lonesome Polecat II"

and https://www.b17-france.org/ which is a French website dedicated to the memory of the 8th AF Aircraft downed in France 1942/1945 through the American Memorial Association of Saint-Nazaire.

The American Memorial Association of Saint-Nazaire has been created by Michel Lugez and his friends with a status of non lucrative association which main aim is to pay homage to American Soldiers who twice helped France to recover its Liberty.

Alain CHARLES

President

[BQZip01]

Just a little tidbit, he was NOT a gunner if he was a 1st Lt. Gunners were/are an enlisted-only profession, but stations on B-17s for some officers DID have guns.

[MKopack]

Ok, after a little more searching, you're going to want to contact Celia Hayes (https://www.celiahayes.com/) She describes herself as "Writer and memoirist, dreamer and adventurer, storyteller and gardener, mother and military veteran, who lives in San Antonio, Texas."

This is a little long, but I believe interesting enough to post. It's from: https://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewArticle.asp?id=43818

Old Pictures and Wartime Memories

By Celia D. Hayes

Part one, of the story of the "Polecat Crew"

A certain picture hung in a black frame, in the back bedroom of Granny Jessie’s house in Pasadena for many years, a black and white photo of four graves piled high with flowers. Only recently did my mother realize, upon looking closely at it, that the flowers were carefully tended hot-house chrysanthemums, and even more fabulously expensive in 1943 as they are now. The grave markers in the picture are plain wooden crosses, painted white and the names just barely visible, for the picture was taken in haste and surreptitiously, smuggled out of Occupied France during World War Two.

“James Menaud” is one of two names which can be clearly read; a misspelling of “James Menaul” who was my mother’s older brother, “Jimmy Junior” who was a tail gunner on a B-17 and died in the war. There was a badly-tinted portrait-photo in Granny Jessie’s living room, a young man awkward in a hastily fitted set of woolen class-A’s, smirking uncomfortably at the camera, frozen forever at 19. Our curiosity about him was never rewarded. Mom had been only thirteen at the time. Fifteen years ago, when my father found a picture of Jimmy Juniors’ crew— ten young men on the tarmac in front of a B-17, awkwardly solemn or cocky and smiling— everything had faded from memory except for the name of the aircraft commander, Lt. Sherman Dodge. We knew that only because his grave was next to Jimmy-Juniors’ in an unknown cemetery somewhere in France. The rest of what we knew fitted into one sentence: Sgt. James Menaul, Jr. was killed in action in the fall of 1943 on one of the raids on the Schweinfurt ball-bearing factories, and some of the other crewmen had survived and escaped into Switzerland. Dad finally asked me, as a persistent and inventive snoop, if I could find out their names and whereabouts, and what had happened to them.

I started with my uncle’s service number and unit of assignment, the 331st Squadron, 94th Bomb Group, Bury St. Edmunds. It was one of the units that had formed an association (since dissolved due to the age and infirmity of many of the members), and they replied promptly to my first letter of enquiry, confirming that Jimmy-Junior’s B-17, the “Lonesome Polecat II” was one of those lost on Black Thursday, October 14th, 1943.

60 8th Air Force B-17s, each with a crew of ten were lost in a single day, attacking the ball-bearing factories in two waves at about 3 o’clock in the afternoon, running a gauntlet of German air defenses to and from the target. A report on the status of various missing crewman, sent from the Army Mortuary Affairs Office contained some riveting extracts: ” …Flights of enemy aircraft stood of at 1,500 yards on both sides and tail of the formation to “lob” rockets or heavy cannon projectiles into the formation, while others attacked from the nose and top and bottom… Several enemy aircraft would dive through the formation from all angles, at times coming within four to six hundred yards… many that went down were hit by rockets or heavy cannon… whenever a Fortress was hit…it either exploded or fell apart… This aircraft was last heard on the ‘command channel’ and there were no eyewitnesses… This report showed no further information; the plane was simply missing from the formation…A total of 80 parachutes were seen in the vicinity of the target…the survivors were so busy avoiding enemy aircraft they were unable to observe what happened… Of the eighteen planes from this particular group which went on this mission, three aborted, thirteen failed to return and two completed the mission….Last seen at 1400 hours, just before it reached the target…Lost as a result of enemy aircraft.”

Crew Pictures and Old Letters

By Celia D. Hayes

Part two of the story of the 'Polecat Crew'

The ten men in this picture assembled in May of 1943 at Eprata Army Air Base, Washington, a place of which Jimmy-Junior wrote in disgust, “They have me living in a tent, out in somebody’s cow pasture. When we get into a crew, we move into hutments that are bigger than a doghouse, but smaller than a garage. I am the official “sound-the-alarm-er” in case of rain. There is a rip in the canvas over my head, so I will be the first to know… it’s getting dark now and somebody forgot to put electric lights in this tent so I guess this is all I can write.” Two weeks later, he wrote, “As of this morning I am head armorer-gunner of crew #30. Crew #30 isn’t much to get excited about though, as all we have besides myself are the second armorer-gunner and the bombardier. I’m going to insist on a pilot before I do much.” A week later: “Our crew is changed around considerable. We lost everyone we had, but now we have a pilot, copilot and myself, which is much more practical than before… We fly today for the first time. Didn’t do much of anything but land and take off. After the third time I lost interest and slept most of the time.”

An observant young man with an unexpectedly sardonic sense of humor, born and raised in Pasadena, he had gone to trade school and left a job in the lithography department of the Los Angeles Times. Firmly convinced of all the then-fourty-eight states there was only one good one, he was pleased that two other Californians were assigned to Crew #30: Lt. John Chandler, the co-pilot, was from Vallejo, and waist-gunner Sgt. Robert Thomas from Burbank. Both were married, and Mrs. Chandler was expecting a baby. True to the movie cliché, though, the rest of the crew was from all over: pilot and A/C commander, Lt. Sherman Dodge— also newly married— from Boston; bombardier Lt. James Becker from Kennet Square, Pennsylvania; flight engineer SSgt. James Festa, from Brooklyn; Sgt Louis Buonarobo, the ball-turret gunner (notably shorter than the other crewmembers) from the Bronx; navigator Lt. Frank Francis of El Paso, Texas; radioman SSgt Douglas McLendon from Greenville Mississippi, and waist-gunner Sgt. Warren Butterfield from Salmon, Idaho.

By mid-June they had accumulated fifteen flying hours. “Yesterday we made what they call ‘dry runs’—that is, going thru the motions of bombing something and don’t: that way, we bombed the city of Wenatchee, blew up the school in Quincy, a couple of dams, bridges and just about everything else in sight… got a letter from George— he had his first airplane ride and wished now he was flying. He could have had my place the other day when we went up to 30,000 feet, It got down to 40 below and I had to forget my flying boots! We just got up there and then an oil line broke so we had to come down, which couldn’t have happened at a better time. My nose was running under my oxygen mask and freezing on my lip. Very annoying. We had a gunnery mission today; I had the tail guns. I think they are mine permanently. At least I hope so, as I like it… we shot at targets on the ground….”

In July they moved to Geiger Field, near Spokane, for continuing training and a series of long flights all over the northwest; “We are supposed to be very observing of everything we see in the way of military objectives, especially trains and railway yards. Then we get questioned all about it, just as if we were over Germany or some place. I guess I will have to give up sleeping on future flights… the navigator is getting me a set of maps so I can be able to tell where we are at. He claims in the tail I have the best view— not that anyone is depending on me, but he wants two of us…”

In late fall, they were assigned a new B-17F, promptly christened the “Lonesome Polecat” by Lt. Dodge. Following another month of training flights, they ferried it to England, where the aircraft went to the replacement depot, and the crew to Rougham airfield, near Bury St. Edmunds, where they were assigned to an aircraft there. They promptly re-christened it “Lonesome Polecat II” but James Festa lamented during one of our conversations, they didn’t have it long enough to paint an emblem on the nose. Jimmy-Junior sent a telegram on arrival to let the family know they had arrived safely. Four V-mail letters followed, the last dated the day before his first combat mission: He couldn’t make sense of the coinage, there wasn’t much to buy that wasn’t rationed, he was making money faster than he could spend it. He hoped to visit London, and he had bought a bicycle to get around the field.

Black Thursday

By Celia D. Hayes

Part three of the story of the 'Polecat Crew' - their first and last mission

My first letter to the 94th Bomb Group memorial association received a response which a telephone number and address for James Becker, who was an active member at that time. Later I located James Festa simply by calling the information operator for Brooklyn and asking of there were a listing for that name. From those gentlemen - the only then-living survivors of Crew #30 - a stack several inches thick of reports from various government archives, contemporary letters, and interviews with an assortment of special experts , I was able to trace what had happened to the Lonesome Polecat II.

In the second wave of bombers over the ball-bearing factories, they made the target, dropping incendiaries onto the wreckage, when they were hit by anti-aircraft fire. With an engine on fire, they dropped out of the protective formation heading west, and were attacked by German fighters. They were last seen by those who returned to Bury St. Edmunds about sixty miles southwest of Schweinfurt, still heading west under power, still fighting. But in a very short space— about fifteen or twenty minutes, they ran out of luck, ammunition and time.

Sgt. Buonarobo ran out of ammunition first, but refused an order to leave the now-useless ball turret, swinging empty guns to bear on attacking fighters. Lt. Dodge took the “Lonesome Polecat” down to the minimum altitude for a safe parachute dump, trying to discourage fighter attacks from below. Sgt Butterfield was killed at his position at the waist gun, and Jimmy-Junior disabled by a stomach wound, crawled back into the tail compartment and returned fire until struck again, probably mortally. Sgt McLendon and Lt. Dodge were also wounded, to a lesser degree. Flight engineer James Festa, in the top turret with an excellent view all the way around, would only tell me that the aircraft was terribly damaged: the tail section was in shreds and a wing well on fire. Sgt. Thomas, the surviving waist gunner, and SSgt. Mclendon then reported taking Sgt. Buonarobo out of the ball turret, also dead.

The intercom knocked out as well, James Festa never heard an order to jump until Lt. Chandler came back and told him directly to bale out of the crippled aircraft. Lt. Francis went to destroy the “G” box, a receiver which allowed a target to be identified when two beams intersected over it. James Festa, going towards the bomb bay to jump out, was blown out through it by an explosion on or near the craft. To the day I spoke to him he still didn’t know why he wasn’t killed by it. The other survivors jumped, the two pilots Dodge and Chandler together at the last, Dodge saying tersely “So long,” leaving the aircraft to crash two kilometers south of the village of Essey-et-Maiserais, near a country road at about four o’clock in the afternoon. Part of it caught fire. The Germans came at once and kept the curious away, while they gathered up the remaining ammunition and guns, and the bodies of the three gunners.

Lt. Dodge’s body was found later, probably a short distance away. His parachute had not opened. Lt. Chandler himself hit the ground hard, and broke three toes. Lt. Francis’ parachute also failed; he fell into woodlands near Fliry, and his body was not found until six months later. The villagers of Fliry, led by their mayor, defiantly held a funeral mass and buried him in their little cemetery. (After the war, the family wished that he could remain there, where people had been so kind and brave, but the War Department insisted on removal to a military cemetery.)

The survivors were scattered far across Alsace-Lorraine. Sgt. Thomas was captured immediately by the German authorities, but the others were luckier, thanks to Pierre Mathy, the restaurateur and innkeeper of Toul. A week after the crash of the “Lonesome Polecat”, Pierre Mathy received a cryptic message from a local farmer, who had a “bag of carrots” for him. In actuality, Mathy was a Resistant, running an escape line into Switzerland, the farmer was one of his contacts, and the “bag of carrots” was actually SSgt. McClendon, complete with two bullets in his leg. Two doctors in Toul secretly operated to remove them and McClendon was sent down the line to safety. Lt. Chandler crawled westward for three days, finally sheltering in a haystack near a farmhouse. He watched the farmhouse for three days more, waiting to see of Germans or French lived there. Desperation drove him to approach it: again, lucky— the farmer was another of Pierre Mathy’s contacts. Given clothes and false papers, he later wrote his wife that the hardest thing he had to do was cram his broken toes into civilian shoes and not limp as he walked by German soldiers in a small town. James Festa was picked up in the little village of Void, near Nancy, by the local policeman, who gave him clothes and food, and passed him from friend to trustworthy friend, hiding him in the house of a wealthy soap-manufacturer in Verdun, and a houseboat on the river before being smuggled over the border and reunited with the others in Swiss internment.

For months afterwards, stunned and grieving families wrote back and forth, first with dignified condolences, then sharing grief and what information they were able to find out. Mrs. Butterfield wrote stoically, “We can be thankful that they didn’t have to suffer long… we have our oldest boy in New Guinea and another boy in England with the 341st Engineers. So you can see we must carry on and be brave as we know not when we will have to face this sorrow again.” Mrs. Chandler, who had given birth to a daughter, two weeks before the “Lonesome Polecats’” first mission, and Mildred Dodge, Lt. Dodge’s mother, coordinated the letter-writing. First, all the “boys” were reported missing. Weeks later, Lt. Dodge, Sgt. Butterfield and Jimmy-junior were reported killed, and Sgt. Thomas a POW. Lt. Francis and Sgt. Buonarobo remained missing until almost the end of the war, a matter of distress among the letter-writers. The four in Switzerland wrote to their families, who promptly wrote to Mrs. Chandler or Mrs. Dodge, who copied extracts and sent them to other families. A picture of the four internees, showing them safe and well, was circulated. Mrs. Dodge, whose grief in fifty-year-old letters was raw and lacerating, sent Granny Jessie a snapshot of her son and herself, taken on his last leave, and Granny Jessie sent one of Jimmy-Junior. They corresponded for years afterwards.

Old Pictures Smuggled Out

By Celia D. Hayes

The final chapter in the story of the 'Polecat Crew'

Some time later, the original of the picture which hung in Granny Jessie's back bedroom was smuggled out of Occupied France, and circulated among the families; four graves piled lavishly with expensive chrysanthemums, the names of Menaul and Dodge clear, if mis-spelled, Butterfield partially visible on the far left, and “un-known American”— Buonarobo, whose body was not identified for certain until after the war. According to Army records, the German authorities brought the bodies to Toul after the crash, for burial in the military quarter of the cemetery. It was a bitter comfort to the families: one mother wrote to Granny Jessie, “At least it is good to know that our boys had a decent burial. I had often wondered. I have had three close friends lately hit by this wicked war— two killed and one missing. I think that our boys and maybe ourselves are better off than a lot of people, as we know that nothing can hurt our boys again, and we can have what peace we can and not worry any more, but I would give my soul to have my boy come walking in.”

The notations in the Army Mortuary records gave me a clue to the riddle of who had taken the picture of the grave: Granny Jessie had vaguely alluded to the Red Cross, but James Festa had told me it had been smuggled out of France through the Resistance, and that it had been shown to the internees, that it was the first they had heard of what happened to Lt. Dodge. The four crewmen buried in Toul were the only Americans recovered from there by mortuary affairs personnel after the war. Two of the survivors were hidden there. I thought it very likely that somewhere in a medium to small-sized town which had been a node on an escape line, there was someone who whom the crash of an American bomber nearby was a significant and memorable event. Since the picture was smuggled out through a Resistance escape line, and I knew such a line operated in Toul, it seemed a logical assumption that someone involved in the Resistance in Toul must therefore have taken the picture. In the spirit of someone throwing a bottle with a note in it into the sea, I wrote to the Mayor of Toul, enclosing a copy of the picture, and asking if the Mayor’s office knew anything about the burials in 1943.

Astonishingly enough, they sent me the address of a Pierre Mathy, the same Pierre Mathy who had hidden McClendon and Chandler fifty years before! “My name is Pierre Mathy,” he wrote to me, “and I’m the one who took the picture in Toul Cemetery to show that (we) took care of the American graves, against the will of the Germans…. I did not assist in the burial… German soldiers kept people apart while they gathered corpses. I was there at that moment and I started to look for survivors… I had established channel to Switzerland with Ms. Suzanne Kriek (called Regina, her Resistance name). She was murdered by the Germans the day before Liberation… she was a Resistance lieutenant; she owned false papers for the Red Cross so she was able to go everywhere…. She went to Switzerland about three times a month. An acquaintance of mine was in the Resistance, so I decided to join it… I rescued 19 aviators, amongst them 9 Americans, 4 Australians, 4 English and 2 Canadians…”

So there it was, out of a pile of old records and letters, a couple of amazing coincidences, the answer to some niggling little questions, and a window into the past, and some reassurance about the qualities of ordinary people in extraordinary times and circumstances. It is gratifying to know that against the odds, in war and occupation, someone would see to the graves of four young strangers, piled with flowers, and take a snapshot to reassure four unknown families, far away. It is reassuring also to discover the courage and fortitude of ordinary people— no headline heroes, no Hollywood spectacle, just people who did what they felt was right and their duty, unflinchingly in the face of odds: Jimmy-Junior and Louis Buonarobo refusing to leave their gun stations, Sherman Dodge and John Chandler staying to the last, conscientious Frank Francis scrounging another set of charts and seeing to the destruction of the classified “G” box, Pierre Mathy and his friends, feeding, hiding and guiding the survivors to safety, and those families at home, whose concern for each other helped them endure separation and grief. Ordinary people all, best remembered by the ordinary rest of us.

I did all this tracking down of survivors and witnesses nearly fifteen years ago, and wrote the original account shortly afterwards. I worked together sources as various as the collection of letters written by my uncle in 1943, the letters written to my grandmother by relatives of the other crewmen and friends, various official Army Air Corps reports on the loss of the aircraft, the set of questionnaires completed by Lt. Chandler on the circumstances under which he last saw each of the dead or missing crewmen, another set of files from Army Mortuary Affairs, a collection of rips from the Escape and Evasion Society, interviews with James Festa and James Becker, and picking the brains of such varied experts as Colonel (Ret.) Frank Halm of the 94th BG Memorial Association, and a USAF crash investigator who thoroughly briefed me on exactly how a damaged and abandoned B-17 would impact the ground.

Each set of facts, names, and actions fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle, and quite often, a tentative supposition that I had made, would be later confirmed by a witness, or by the record. I was never able to contact any other relatives of the Lonesome Polecat crew; there were, for example, no telephone listings for Butterfield in the entire state of Idaho by 1993. Sgt. Thomas, SSgt. McClendon and Lt. Chandler all survived the war, but their Veterans’ Administration files went into inactive status by the late 1970ies. Chandler and his family made a return trip to Toul, and a reunion with Pierre Mathy sometime in the 1960ies. His return was noted by the local newspaper, and Pierre Mathy’s grandson sent me copies of clippings after Mathy himself died in 1995. I transferred to Korea in 1993, loosing touch with James Festa and James Becker at about that time. Neither of them were in good health, and have since dropped from the rolls of the 94th BG association.

My uncle, Lt. Dodge, Sgt. Buonarobo and Sgt. Butterfield are buried in the American cemetery at St. Avold. Lt. Francis’ family had him brought back after the war, and interred in the VA cemetery at Ft. Bliss, since the military wouldn’t let his remains stay in Flirey. Even the original letters and pictures are gone;Jimmy-junior’s woolen uniform jacket and the Purple Heart all burned in the fire four years ago, although I had meticulously transcribed all the letters and rephotographed the pictures.

…..And all that remains is the faces and the names

Of the wives and the sons and the daughters…. (Gordon Lightfoot, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald)

Edited May 10, 2010 by MKopack

[Guest Lockjaw25]

MKopack...that is some awesome digging on the internet. I managed to find some details on one of my relatives who was KIA around Cassino with the 34th ID and the actions that day, but nothing like that. Good on Ms. Hayes as well for putting everything together

To Lt Dodge and the Polecat crew...

[Chuck17]

Hey FAFTS -

If youre interested, I have a year-long subscription to a records search engine called Footnote. It got me my cousins COMPLETE incident report from when his B-17G collided with another during assembly over the Adriatic Sea in Feb of 1945. He is still listed as missing. I have everything, all the debriefs, the report, pictures, drawings, you name it, the entire file. I may be able to help if you know who you are looking for.

PM me. Things like dates, names, units and aircraft help as well.

Let me know what I can do.

Chuck

[brickhistory]

This thread shows in an opposite way why posers draw such heat.

Here we have two guys in WWII who both won Silver Stars the ultimate hard way.

Outstanding work from everyone to dig up this information.

[Right Seat Driver]

This thread is amazing! Great work by all

It never ceases to amaze me how great the Greatest Generation really was. It is too bad there are so many emo pussies out there. Imagine today the country asking a large percentage of fresh high school graduates to drop everything and fight a war. While there are truly brave kids out there who have answered the call, it is too bad there is such a growing movement to denounce those brave kids back home.

[MKopack]

This thread is amazing! Great work by all

It never ceases to amaze me how great the Greatest Generation really was. It is too bad there are so many emo pussies out there. Imagine today the country asking a large percentage of fresh high school graduates to drop everything and fight a war. While there are truly brave kids out there who have answered the call, it is too bad there is such a growing movement to denounce those brave kids back home.

And in a lot of cases, although there was a draft, it wasn't even a question of the country asking - so many young people saw what was happening in the world and volunteered on their own. There was a job to do and they set out to do it. My Dad's father had four brothers in the coal country in Northeastern PA, all five of them served:

Andrew Kopack U.S. Marine Corps

George Kopack U.S. Army - Field Medic, landed on Utah Beach on D-Day.

Joseph Kopack U.S. Navy

Michael C. Kopack U.S. Army - Killed in France

Paul E. Kopack U.S. Army - my Grandfather

And that's not unusual - I can remember my Grandfather talking about it while sitting on the porch after I enlisted, pointing to house by house going up and down the street and naming all the guys who served in WWII, or with him later in the reserves.

This is my Grandfather's unit, the Headquarters battery of the 11th Field Artillery at Schofield Barracks in the Hawaiian Territory, Christmas 1933.

...and 'in the field', with my Grandfather to the left, either in Hawaii or the Canal Zone during the 1930's.

Edited June 7, 2010 by MKopack

[Guest MarineAFK]

MKopack--

I liked your photos. My dad, Andrew Kopack-USMC, was your grandfather's brother. Our family has a proud military history. My dad fought at Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima during WWII. He also fought in the Korean War. He served from 1938-1958.

[MKopack]

MKopack--

I liked your photos. My dad, Andrew Kopack-USMC, was your grandfather's brother. Our family has a proud military history. My dad fought at Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima during WWII. He also fought in the Korean War. He served from 1938-1958.

What? Seriously? I'm meeting my Uncle (or is it cousin?!?) here on BaseOps??? Guadalcanal, Iwo Jima and Korea? Talk about hitting ALL of the high spots...

I've heard of Andrew, but unfortunately little more than his name and the fact that he was a Marine. I'll have to get more details from you. I just dropped a message in to Uncle George as well, I believe he was USAAF at the same time.

Over Memorial Day we were discussing 'military families' with my Grandfather's daughters. It occurred that people who don't have Veterans in their immediate family, don't tend to have any Vets as relatives. On the other hand, if you can name one, there are usually quite a few more. I'm sure that a sociologist would say that means something, but all I know is it makes me proud to be in a family that has worn a lot of uniforms over the years.

Here's a photo of Michael C. Kopack, who was lost in 1944 while fighting in France.

October 1944

Sgt. M. C. Kopack Given Posthumous Award

With the Third Corps in Germany - Sgt. Michael C. Kopack of 438 Pringle Street, Kingston (Pennsylvania) recently was awarded the Silver Star Award posthumously for gallantry in action.

He is the son of Mrs. Mary Kopack, 438 Pringle Street, Kingston.

Citation reads as follows:

Sgt. Michael C. Kopack, 32146019, FA, Headquarters Battery, Armored Field Artillery Battalion, for gallantry in action. On September 1944, near ***, France, the infantry launched an attack against a strongly held enemy hill position. Heavy enemy mortar fire inflicted many casualties. Sgt. Kopack, reconnaissance sergeant with the Field Artillery observer accompanying the troops, actually participated by using his small arms and operating the radio from which the observer called for and directed artillery fire. Sgt Kopack, exhibiting great courage, eagerly volunteered to accompany the Artillery Observer forward in an attempt to secure a more advantageous observation post which might offer better opportunity to definitely locate and destroy the enemy fire power. While in the act of moving forward through the intense enemy mortar fire, he was killed by a direct hit on the vehicle which he was driving. The gallantry, aggressiveness, and supreme devotion to duty displayed by Sgt. Kopack were an inspiration to those who witnessed his daring action and exemplify the highest traditions of the military forces of the United States.

Mike Jr.

mkopack@infionline.net

[MKopack]

Rest in peace to my Uncle George Kopack who passed away last night. George, born in 1917, was a former US Army combat medic and was one of those that waded ashore in Normandy early on D-Day in 1944 and fought across Europe until the end of the war. George was a member of a different generation - the last of the five Kopack brothers to serve in WWII - and until the past ten years would walk the five miles each way to the VA Hospital in Wilkes Barre, PA, three or four times a week, year round - just because he didn't think any of the "old guys" in the hospital (most of whom were much younger than he) should have to be there alone.

Salute George, until we meet again. Next time the drinks are on me.

Edited April 4, 2015 by MKopack

[brabus]

to your uncle; it's awesome that even in his 70s/80s he would walk to the VA to support others. The world needs more men like your uncle.

[M2]

to your Uncle George, I am sure he's having a heck of a reunion with his comrades in arms right now!

[jasonmchenry]

I'm here after searching for Douglas McClendon. I've been compiling the history of the plane and crew of the B-17 my grandfather was on. We found a letter that was from Douglas' wife and I assume the common thread was the Blister Club. It was written to Rudy Menchl who evaded capture and walked from norther Italy to Switzerland. I'm posting scans of that letter here in case Douglas' family is ever looking for his history. The rest of the materials I have are posted over at https://thebumsrush.weebly.com/articles-and-letters.html as will this letter once we finish the transcription. 

It makes me feel good seeing the community of people that are doing the great work of honoring the memory of these amazing men. Thanks to one and all for that.