My Bombsight View of Wwii

By Casey Hasey

Casey Hasey takes you onboard as you live the life of flying in a B-26 Bomber through death defying missions where on some days many did not return. Experience the thrill of D-Day, the Little Blitz, the war through occupied France and into Hitlers Germany. Both on the ground with the locals finding ways to survive and in the air, Casey makes you feel like you are right there beside him. This book should be a movie, it has everything.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 27, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456713140

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© 2010, 2011 Casey Hasey. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 09/17/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4567-1313-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4567-1314-0 (ebk)

ISBN: 978-1-4567-1315-7 (hc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010918421

Printed in the United States of America

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My Bombsight View of World Was II – Book II: War Stories of a U.S. Army Air Corps Bombardier-Navigator/Gunner/Pathfinder

Contents

Introduction

Foreword

Chapter 1

The Prelude

Chapter 2

The War Was In Europe

Chapter 3

December 7, 1941

The Shock

Chapter 4

Decisions, Decisions

Chapter 5

The Army Air Force

Chapter 6

Private Hasey

Chapter 7

That White Line

Chapter 8

Santa Ana 1

Chapter 9

Tex Rankin’s Washing Machine

Chapter 10

Santa Ana Again

Chapter 11

Christmas and Shooting School

Chapter 12

A Bombing We Will Go

Chapter 13

Telling the Pilots Where to Go

Chapter 14

Going Home and

Tampa Bound

Chapter 15

After Hours

Chapter 16

M.G.M.

Chapter 17

Lakeland, Florida

Chapter 18

Tyler, Texas

Chapter 19

Hunter Field

Savannah, Georgia

Chapter 20

Camp Kilmer, New Jersey

Chapter 21

Dodging Submarines on the Queen Elizabeth

Chapter 22

The English War Zone

Chapter 23

Little Blitz

Chapter 24

Nick’s Chick

Chapter 25

The Wild Blue Yonder

Chapter 26

London

Chapter 27

Our Commander

Chapter 28

More Nasty Missions

Chapter 29

Pathfinders

Chapter 30

Oboe: Our Pathway in the Sky

Chapter 32

Schiphole Mission

Chapter 33

Normandy Invasion Approaches

Chapter 34

D-Day

The Greatest Show on Earth

Chapter 35

Night Missions

Chapter 36

V-1 Bombs

Chapter 37

Saint-Lo Breakthrough

Chapter 38

V-2 Rockets

Chapter 39

Leaving England

Chapter 40

Beauvais Air Base

Chapter 41

Paris In Wartime

Chapter 42

General S. Anderson

Chapter 43

We Are Winning

Chapter 44

Home is Our Tent

Chapter 45

Magic Number 55

Chapter 46

Adieu La Belle, France

Chapter 47

England Revisited

Chapter 48

Homeward Bound

Chapter 49

Santa Ana III

Chapter 50

V-J Day

Chapter 51

The Scattering

Vignettes

Tidbits & This and That

Appendix

Photos

My Honor Flight

MY BOMBSIGHT VIEW OF WORLD WAR II

War Stories of a U.S. Army Air Corps

Bombardier/Navigator/Gunner/Pathfinder

In War Torn England and France

(D-Day and Girls Included)

Book II

I have retained some sections of Book I which was a work in progress under the working title of 55 In a B-26.

By

Raymond Casey Hasey, J.D.

With utmost assistance from Mavis Hasey

Flying Wings Earned

Aerial Gunner

Bombardier

Navigator

Observer (Radar)

344th Bomb Group

495th Squadron

1st Pathfinder (Provisional)

9th Air Force

1st Lieutenant

U.S. Army Air Corps

European Theater

World War II

Introduction

One thing I would like to be clearly understood is that any and all references to ladies are entirely fictional, and solely products of my imagination.

More than sixty years have gone by, and my memory is no longer perfect. Times have changed, wars have changed and I have changed, but my memories remain. After the war most veterans rarely discussed their adventures.

Most of my memories are from personal experiences, but some are from rumor or scuttlebutt. Although I recall many missions vividly, I can no longer be certain which crew I was flying with on some missions. I did my first nine missions with Dave Nichols‘ crew, about thirty missions with Vaner Smith‘s crew, and I was a substitute with various other crews on about sixteen occasions, including D-Day.

I never kept a diary or notes, and the details now blend together in my mind. Some of the dates I mention came from memory, others from letters or military records. It has been said that people seeing the same action remember things somewhat differently. In a national Geographic article (June, 1995) it says there is no total recall, and although memories of unusual experiences are better preserved than others, even our most vivid memories are, at best, reconstructions.

In 1944 I flew in a B-26 Bomber from bases in England and France. I actually flew 56 missions, but was credited with 55.

About 1990 I was in a Federal Court in Tacoma, Washington as a witness. The judge allowed no newspapers or books or electronic devices of any kind. Being bored I decided to spend the three days writing, and I chose my trip on the Queen Elizabeth to fight the war. My briefcase and yellow pad were stolen. A few years later while recovering from two cancer operations, about all I could do was lay in bed. Then I really started writing, and the more I wrote the more memories came flooding back.

I found out about a reunion with my old squadron and decided to attend. My old buddies attended and helped out with corrections and additions. I found some old Air Force records. I also included some scuttlebutt, which abounds in every Army. We believed the scuttlebutt to be most likely true. I included the stuff about our Commanding Officer, General Vance in this book.

I especially remember the civilians and their hard life, with the deadly bombs falling almost daily. It was not our fault that most of the men were stationed elsewhere, and we had to put up with all those lovely ladies that were left behind. Everyone worked like crazy to win the war, soldiers and civilians together.

Read on for those special memories that I can never forget. What follows is the way I remember it.

Raymond Casey Hasey

Foreword

My father, Ray Hasey, didn’t speak about his experiences in World War II for more than 45 years. He says it was the same for many other veterans. When the war was over, he put aside those memories and let them go.

After my father began writing he brought me chapter after chapter, hand-written on yellow lined paper, which we later re-arranged into chronological order. He was still writing in June of 1996 on the 50th anniversary of D-Day. That year my father wrote much of it while lying on his side, recovering from surgery.

Several times after that, I thought we were done with the book, dad would show up with a new chapter. With each draft, I asked my father lots of questions, drawing out more and more details until I could picture each scene as if it were a movie. I edited, clarified, and expanded the text to include the details, then added footnotes to define the jargon and technical terms the way he explained them to me. Because my father and I wrote this together, we speak to more than one generation.

My father re-met many former air Corps buddies at various Air Force reunions. Some of them examined our earlier drafts. If they had comments or a different memory of events, we incorporated them. Another buddy, John Goolsbee, found my father through a phone book search. They are both still looking for other buddies they flew with.

My father says he was lucky to he born when he was so he could have these experiences and play a role in such an important cause. He flew fifty-five missions, and was undoubtedly changed in significant ways by his experiences.

It was important to me to hear my father’s story.

Mavis M. Hasey

August 7, 1997

I would not have been able to write this book without the devoted help from my daughter, and the myriad of friends and buddies.

I always felt bad because she spent so many hours out of her busy life assisting me with this book. Feeling guilty, I would ask her to turn everything over to me and I would take it from there, but she insisted, and I could not change her mind. I still feel that it was not right for me to high-jack so much time away from her life. My debt is enormous and this book is dedicated to her. She is beyond all praise.

Raymond Casey Hasey

August 24, 2009

For those who wish to get right down to the combat action and the bullets and the bombs, etc. it’s OK to skip right to the chapter about sailing to war on the Queen Elizabeth across the stormy North Atlantic in midwinter, with submarines lurking about. Or you have my permission to go to any other chapter or anyplace else that strikes your fancy.

Chapter 1

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The Prelude

A little one engine airplane came flying over. It buzzed the area and circled around. All of us kids in the neighborhood ran after it shouting and waving. It was the first real airplane we had ever seen. No one we knew had ever been in an airplane.

It was almost Christmas time in 1939 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I was the driver for my Aunt Sadie who sang every year in the choir for the production of the Messiah by Handel. Because it was a rehearsal there was only one other person in the balcony of the auditorium, killing time as I was. I struck up a conversation and he was a pilot on a lecture tour. He related that while flying over the great Australian Outback desert his engine sputtered and quit. He was successful in making a dead stick landing. After a day a nomad tribe located him. His water bottle was dry and he was hungry. He spent a month walking with them from water hole to water hole. Mostly they turned over rocks looking for snakes, lizards, grubs or anything edible. He said roasted grubs tasted much like popcorn. Finally, they arrived at a tribal post and store. The Australian government grants a reward for rescuing lost or stranded people. The tribe received a valuable sack of salt and also a credit at the store. He said that for the rest of his life he would never turn down anything edible no matter what it looked like. I was not encouraged to rush right out and join the Air Force.

Chapter 2

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The War Was In Europe

We were well aware of the war raging in Europe. It was not my main concern and I paid scant attention to it. It was a long way away with a very big ocean in between. I did not feel personally involved. I had read somewhere that Hitler did not have enough money to expand a long and costly war, and would have to give it up soon. I had not learned that money doesn’t matter when you have a dedicated dictatorship and a superior army. I always felt I could not achieve any judgment before age 29, and boy was I right. I was just naïve.

The day of the draft had arrived and everyone rushed down to sign up. A friend of bobby Gratz named Mendelson signed up. He was ineligible at age 16. He said that with all those millions signing up, there was no chance he would be called up soon, and he might just as well get it over and get in the action.

The day the first numbers were randomly picked was a big media event. There was lots of publicity in the newsreels, radio and newspapers. You guessed it, Mendelson was one of the very first names drawn. He was so happy to have been chosen. The service sent him to Firefighters School. He spent the entire war at a Midwest airbase doing his part for victory. As a civilian after the war, with his training in the service, he made it his lifetime occupation.

Chapter 3

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December 7, 1941

 The Shock

It was a quiet Sunday at the University of Wisconsin in Madison, Wisconsin. Bobby Gratz, Paul Zeimer and I were in our student room in a house called Ye Olde Seldom Inn. We carried a full college load of classes and worked about 40 hours a week as most male students did. Sunday morning was our chance to get a little extra sleep. After getting up, our Sunday ritual was to eat a brunch in our room. It was a time and money saver. First we played one hand of a German card game called Shopskof (Sheepshead). In those days every roadhouse in the farm areas had Shopskof Tournaments every Winter. Our loser had to buy, and go get brunch. To be fair regarding costs, it always had to be the same stuff. It consisted of a loaf of bread, a stick of liverwurst, a jug of milk, and chocolate cake for dessert.

We actually did get to do some studying between the bull Sessions, about football, food and especially about girls. We rarely dated. We seldom had an extra nickel or dime to buy her a coke or a movie. Usually five hours sleep was all we could manage to get. Time was of the essence. The activities at the Rathskeller in the Student Union substituted just fine. They even sold beer to you if you were eighteen. Patrick Henry beer was between 12 to 14% alcohol. After the war started the government mandated no more than 3.2% beer. In the Paul Bunyon Room they had some lively card games. For no money, of course, as this was the rule. We just kept score and settled up later.

There arose a murmur in the streets outside. It became a roar. Even the dogs joined in. Excited people rushed about telling neighbors and strangers to listen to the radio. Quickly we grabbed our little old tiny tinny student model radio.

We were shocked out of our shoes and our sox. Pearl Harbor was under attack. In just a few seconds our lives changed forever. Now we were fighters, and good-by being students. In moments America became a united country. War had arrived and Americans were dying. All of its citizens were determined to do everything they could as fighters on the battlefront, or as a worker on the home front. We were male, healthy and the right age to lead the way to defend our way of life. We grabbed our books and tossed them helter-skelter into the corner of our room. Of course, reality returned on Monday morning. We had to retrieve our books from the corner of our room to trudge off to class.

Chapter 4

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Decisions, Decisions

We had to make a life changing decision. We could enlist now in the service of our choice, or wait until we were drafted. It was an easy decision to enlist now, but we had to make that decision before our draft number came up. That could be one day or two years. We needed a little time to check and see which service was going to be stuck with Bobby and me.

A lot of students went right down and enlisted to get in the action right now. However, Uncle Sam had no place to train so many all at once. We were building and expanding training camps and airfields like crazy. Troops were training with old World War I rifles or even broomsticks. I knew how to shoot because I had owned a rifle since age 8. We needed lots and lots of everything. Factories started running around the clock. The only thing the services had enough of was marching, K.P. (kitchen Police) and hurry up and wait.

Bobby Gratz had an older brother who had obtained an offer for us to enlist in the navy as Lt. J.G.’s (Lieutenant Junior Grade) in intelligence. Both of us qualified anyway so we did not need the F.B.I. Deal. It sounded interesting and we could see ourselves tracking down spies. They told us all kinds of good things, about the wonderful training facilities and that the food was great. They even promised to teach me to swim. It sounded great until we asked what our duties would be to begin with. They replied, censoring mail. We could not see us censoring other peoples love letters even if it might be educational. We thanked the kind people and left. Had we stayed, our lives would have turned out differently. Like, maybe, I would have learned to swim.

Chapter 5

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The Army Air Force

Right across the street was the Army Air Force recruiting office. We looked at each other and said, Why not? They were nice to us and explained they had a program to sign up to be an Aviation Cadet and learn to fly. It paid $75.00 per month. It was a lot more than the .25 cents an hour we had been earning. They said their food was the best. The army allotted .30 cents a day to feed one soldier and the Navy allotted .70 cents, but the Cadets were allotted one dollar a day. The pay and the food sounded great, but what got us was the excitement of learning to fly. It was super exciting for two guys who had never been higher than a barn roof. I could just picture myself as an Air Ace just like the Red Baron. It was the only service that sounded like fun. They gave us a pen and we signed up on the dotted line for Pilot training.

A few days later we took their simple physical exam. I passed, but Bobby failed, because of his flat feet. His were congenital and never hurt and never would. We thought it terribly unfair. Pilots fly around and didn’t March around all day. Later the Cadets relented and Bobby was in. But, it meant that he would train later and we would not go off to fly together in the wild blue yonder. The Army Air Corps now owned us totally, and was stuck with us for better or for worse, as they say.

Chapter 6

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Private Hasey

I was officially enlisted and eager to go, but there was no space available in a training facility to send me to. I was classified a Private Unassigned, earning $21.00 a month. I was told to go home and wait for orders. The Army puts great importance on obeying orders, so home I went. I was in no mood to just sit around, so I located a job in a liquor store. I drove around the Eastside of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I mostly delivered cases of beer and collected delinquent accounts. I had keys to a couple of houses to check if any bottles of wine were missing and needed replacing in their wine cellars. They knew I was waiting to be called and they treated me like their son.

Good friend Dick Livesay enlisted in the Navy. After 10 days they cancelled his enlistment. He then tried the other services with the same result. He was a chemist and on a list too valuable to enlist. The Jap fleet had cut off our normal Far East supply of rubber. He was assigned to work on making artificial rubber and later rockets. Wallace Weiderman was deferred. His mother was a widow and he was the only one available to work the family farm. Food is absolutely essential. Everyone pitched in to do whatever they could for the war effort.

A High School friend of mine (nameless) was accused of rape by an un-named girl. If true it would be the first time she ever refused anyone. Anyway, the judge did not believe her, so he offered my friend a deal. If you join the Army I will dismiss the charges. He entered the Army. I just knew he would be too brave to survive in the Army, and sure enough he was killed in battle. A lot of these deals were offered by judges at