HELL OVER GERMANY: Color (RARE) Footage of B-17s VS. Luftwaffe - 1944

[ARCHIVED THREAD] - HELL OVER GERMANY: Color (RARE) Footage of B-17s VS. Luftwaffe - 1944

Posted: 4/1/2015 11:29:58 PM EDT

Some really good footage. Skip to about 42 minutes in when they go on their mission. These guys really got some on their way out. Those Jerries didn't stand a chance

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl6CaJWif1M[/youtube]

Posted: 4/1/2015 11:31:14 PM EDT

[#1]

Quoted:

Some really good footage. Skip to about 42 minutes in when they go on their mission. These guys really got some on their way out. Those Jerries didn't stand a chance

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl6CaJWif1M

View Quote

Posted: 4/1/2015 11:33:28 PM EDT

[#2]

TY for that sir

Posted: 4/1/2015 11:45:06 PM EDT

[#3]

Quote History

Quoted:

TY for that sir

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YW

Posted: 4/2/2015 1:25:01 AM EDT

[#4]

thanks for sharing. my uncle was a B-17 tail gunner, kia. in '44

Posted: 4/2/2015 2:02:04 AM EDT

[#5]

That was tense even though it was 70 years ago.

Posted: 4/2/2015 5:52:22 AM EDT

[#6]

I wonder sometimes if MY generation couldn't just play tough the way daddy and mommy did way back when....

Posted: 4/2/2015 6:39:31 AM EDT

[#7]

Quoted:
Some really good footage. Skip to about 42 minutes in when they go on their mission. These guys really got some on their way out. Those Jerries didn't stand a chance

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl6CaJWif1M

View Quote

They kicked B-17 crew asses to Christmas and back.

I don't know what you mean by "they didn't stand a chance"

Posted: 4/2/2015 7:01:53 AM EDT

[#8]

Really points out how valuable refueling tankers are.

Posted: 4/2/2015 7:14:14 AM EDT

[#9]

Quote History

Quoted:
I wonder sometimes if MY generation couldn't just play tough the way daddy and mommy great grandpa and great grandma did way back when....

View Quote

Posted: 4/2/2015 7:26:33 AM EDT

[#10]

I have a print of Fortress Under Fire in my office with an FW-190 and ME-109G on the barrister below it

Posted: 4/2/2015 7:39:14 AM EDT

[#11]

Quote History

Quoted:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl6CaJWif1M

View Quote View All Quotes

View All Quotes

Quote History

Quoted:

Quoted:
Some really good footage. Skip to about 42 minutes in when they go on their mission. These guys really got some on their way out. Those Jerries didn't stand a chance

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl6CaJWif1M

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl6CaJWif1M

Loved the one liners lol

Why isn't .mil training more like that now'days? now it's death by powerpoint

Posted: 4/2/2015 8:05:20 AM EDT

[#12]

Great stuff.

Posted: 4/2/2015 8:45:26 AM EDT

[#13]

thanks for posting this

Posted: 4/2/2015 9:47:20 AM EDT

[#14]

My father was there with those guys, being a navigator on a Fortress of the 100th BG 349th BS. He was only about 20 years old at the time, leaving his study of chemical engineering at Rice to join the AAF. After 35 missions, he returned to finish his education. Following is a story he wrote in 1991:

A Day to Remember

"Off your asses and on your feet,”
rang out the lovely voice of that damn staff sergeant, Ireland. It was 2:00
A.M. in the fall of 1944. We slowly got moving; listlessly we got into our
heavy clothes. It was cold, as is the night in the English countryside in
autumn. And, besides it was minus 60 degrees F up where we were going. We tried
to focus on getting ourselves together.

As a lead crew we were awakened an
hour before the rest of the fliers. What a way to start the day. We wound our way
to the chow hut. The mess sergeant was at his huge pan loaded with grease. To
it he added a concoction of powdered eggs, powdered milk, and water. These were
called scrambled eggs in the cooks manual. A horrible sight early in the
morning. I settled for cereal and powdered milk.

We wandered into the briefing room.
The target for today was outside of Leipzig, near Mersburg: the Luna oil works.
The aiming point was the hydrogenation unit. We had already been there twice,
but we hadn’t knocked it out. Our object was to try to deprive the Germans of
oil products that they needed to keep their war machines running. It was always
heavily defended. At four o’clock, the rest of the crews filed in. The deputy
commander gave the briefing. The base commander, a bird colonel at twenty seven
years of age would lead our group. We were the deputy lead and would fly behind
him. Says the colonel, "When we come off the target, hang on to your hats for
we’re going to do some fancy flying to get out of there fast.” The briefing
broke up.

We went to the trucks that took us out to the hard stands. As an
aside, our driver couldn’t either read or write – a genuine hillbilly from
Tennessee. Our ground crew were already at the plane as they always were. Our
plane was called E-Z Goin’, and our logo was a green turtle. There was never a
question about the plane being in tip top shape. These guys knew their
business. The armorer who loaded our bombs and machine guns became a Franciscan
monk after the war. Who would have thought such a thing about a drunken
Irishman from Boston!

O.K.; the starting flare was fired
from the control tower. Engines were started, and we proceeded to file out for
takeoff. All was routine and uneventful, so far. Our group, the "Bloody 100^th”
was putting up the usual three squadrons, a total of 36 planes. We took and
climbed to five thousand feet over the Wash, and formed up for combat. We were
to steadily climb so as to be at thirty two thousand feet at the aiming point.
We proceeded. The trip in was rather quiet; a few bursts of anti-aircraft fire
here and there but nothing of worry.

Here we were, fifteen hundred
B-17’s plowing a corridor in the sky with con trails marking our progress. I’ve
been told that the sight frightened the Germans badly; I hope so. On each side
of the bomber line were our fighter aircraft patrolling. It was a huge highway
in the sky. A businesslike operation to say the least. Every now and then a
wing (three groups) would break off to go to targets other than ours. We
approached our target. As I mentioned, we had been here several times before.
The powers that ordain such, decided that we would have a nice long bomb run to
make sure that we hit the target this time. We flew straight and level for
eleven minutes – an eternity. Ahead of us was a box of flak, heavy and intense.
But, of course, we flew straight for it. The Germans knew our target. We found
out later why the flak was so devastating; they had brought up 105mm cannon to
use as anti-aircraft guns. The usual 88mm’s could reach us; weren’t as
effective. The 105’s were deadly. As we approached the target, we opened our
bomb bay doors. Usual procedure was for the following bombardiers to toggle out
their bombs when the lead did. Well, a couple of our bombs dropped out (‘member
our armorer?) and the guys following let their loads go. It turned out that a
village about twenty five miles from the target was wiped out.

Now, as the navigator, I was
supposed to record events in the sky; who was shot down, where, and when. We
approached the box of flak. It was intense, and B-17’s began to fall. There was
no way that I could record the disaster; everywhere the air was full of
exploding and flaming planes. Our room mates were flying off the colonel’s wing
ahead of us and caught one and exploded in a horror of flame. We finally
dropped our bombs, got out of the flak box and got the hell out of there. But
the Luftwaffe were waiting just outside the flak. Our fighters, heroic fools
they were, came through the flak with us and engaged the Germans head-on; there
was a terrible free-for-all. Everywhere our fighters and bombers were being
blasted out of the sky by flak and fighters.

The results of the day: 100 B-17’s lost, hopefully,
maybe many would be able to land in Germany. We saw a lot of parachutes. Nine
hundred men from bombers were lost, and thirty from fighters, that was our
cost. We calculated that we dropped 2,400 bombs at our target; the strike
photos showed FOUR in the target area. We got back to the base; got debriefed;
had our shot of rye whiskey; ate a meal of sorts; and fell into bed. Tomorrow
would be another day.

Posted: 4/2/2015 9:51:44 AM EDT

[#15]

I'm not impressed with them.

My dads sister and mother were killed in a Civilian air raid shelter in Vienna during the war. It was CLEARLY MARKED with a RED CROSS on the outskirts of Vienna and had absolutely no MILITARY targets nearby whatsoever.

I've done the research and I had the time to look into it. I'm not placing blame nor advocating the the NAZIS were innocent or anything in that nature.

war is hell....end of story.....

Posted: 4/2/2015 9:59:28 AM EDT

[#16]

Tag for later.

Link to some related reading:
http://www.ar15.com/forums/t_1_5/1733849_.html&page=1&

Posted Via AR15.Com Mobile

Posted: 4/2/2015 9:59:42 AM EDT

[#17]

Delete

Posted: 4/2/2015 10:01:04 AM EDT

[#18]

Quote History

Quoted:
My father was there with those guys, being a navigator on a Fortress of the 100th BG 349th BS. He was only about 20 years old at the time, leaving his study of chemical engineering at Rice to join the AAF. After 35 missions, he returned to finish his education. Following is a story he wrote in 1991:

A Day to Remember

"Off your asses and on your feet,”rang out the lovely voice of that damn staff sergeant, Ireland. It was 2:00A.M. in the fall of 1944. We slowly got moving; listlessly we got into ourheavy clothes. It was cold, as is the night in the English countryside inautumn. And, besides it was minus 60 degrees F up where we were going. We triedto focus on getting ourselves together.

As a lead crew we were awakened anhour before the rest of the fliers. What a way to start the day. We wound our wayto the chow hut. The mess sergeant was at his huge pan loaded with grease. Toit he added a concoction of powdered eggs, powdered milk, and water. These werecalled scrambled eggs in the cooks manual. A horrible sight early in themorning. I settled for cereal and powdered milk.

We wandered into the briefing room.The target for today was outside of Leipzig, near Mersburg: the Luna oil works.The aiming point was the hydrogenation unit. We had already been there twice,but we hadn’t knocked it out. Our object was to try to deprive the Germans ofoil products that they needed to keep their war machines running. It was alwaysheavily defended. At four o’clock, the rest of the crews filed in. The deputycommander gave the briefing. The base commander, a bird colonel at twenty sevenyears of age would lead our group. We were the deputy lead and would fly behindhim. Says the colonel, "When we come off the target, hang on to your hats forwe’re going to do some fancy flying to get out of there fast.” The briefingbroke up.

We went to the trucks that took us out to the hard stands. As anaside, our driver couldn’t either read or write – a genuine hillbilly fromTennessee. Our ground crew were already at the plane as they always were. Ourplane was called E-Z Goin’, and our logo was a green turtle. There was never aquestion about the plane being in tip top shape. These guys knew theirbusiness. The armorer who loaded our bombs and machine guns became a Franciscanmonk after the war. Who would have thought such a thing about a drunkenIrishman from Boston!

O.K.; the starting flare was firedfrom the control tower. Engines were started, and we proceeded to file out fortakeoff. All was routine and uneventful, so far. Our group, the "Bloody 100^th”was putting up the usual three squadrons, a total of 36 planes. We took andclimbed to five thousand feet over the Wash, and formed up for combat. We wereto steadily climb so as to be at thirty two thousand feet at the aiming point.We proceeded. The trip in was rather quiet; a few bursts of anti-aircraft firehere and there but nothing of worry.

Here we were, fifteen hundredB-17’s plowing a corridor in the sky with con trails marking our progress. I’vebeen told that the sight frightened the Germans badly; I hope so. On each sideof the bomber line were our fighter aircraft patrolling. It was a huge highwayin the sky. A businesslike operation to say the least. Every now and then awing (three groups) would break off to go to targets other than ours. Weapproached our target. As I mentioned, we had been here several times before.The powers that ordain such, decided that we would have a nice long bomb run tomake sure that we hit the target this time. We flew straight and level foreleven minutes – an eternity. Ahead of us was a box of flak, heavy and intense.But, of course, we flew straight for it. The Germans knew our target. We foundout later why the flak was so devastating; they had brought up 105mm cannon touse as anti-aircraft guns. The usual 88mm’s could reach us; weren’t aseffective. The 105’s were deadly. As we approached the target, we opened ourbomb bay doors. Usual procedure was for the following bombardiers to toggle outtheir bombs when the lead did. Well, a couple of our bombs dropped out (‘memberour armorer?) and the guys following let their loads go. It turned out that avillage about twenty five miles from the target was wiped out.

Now, as the navigator, I wassupposed to record events in the sky; who was shot down, where, and when. Weapproached the box of flak. It was intense, and B-17’s began to fall. There wasno way that I could record the disaster; everywhere the air was full ofexploding and flaming planes. Our room mates were flying off the colonel’s wingahead of us and caught one and exploded in a horror of flame. We finallydropped our bombs, got out of the flak box and got the hell out of there. Butthe Luftwaffe were waiting just outside the flak. Our fighters, heroic foolsthey were, came through the flak with us and engaged the Germans head-on; therewas a terrible free-for-all. Everywhere our fighters and bombers were beingblasted out of the sky by flak and fighters.

The results of the day: 100 B-17’s lost, hopefully,maybe many would be able to land in Germany. We saw a lot of parachutes. Ninehundred men from bombers were lost, and thirty from fighters, that was ourcost. We calculated that we dropped 2,400 bombs at our target; the strikephotos showed FOUR in the target area. We got back to the base; got debriefed;had our shot of rye whiskey; ate a meal of sorts; and fell into bed. Tomorrowwould be another day.

View Quote

Awesome story

[ARCHIVED THREAD] - HELL OVER GERMANY: Color (RARE) Footage of B-17s VS. Luftwaffe - 1944

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