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The Armorer: My Experiences As a Martin B-26 Marauder Ground Crewman In World War 2
The Armorer: My Experiences As a Martin B-26 Marauder Ground Crewman In World War 2
The Armorer: My Experiences As a Martin B-26 Marauder Ground Crewman In World War 2
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The Armorer: My Experiences As a Martin B-26 Marauder Ground Crewman In World War 2

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Merriam Press Aviation History AH8 (First Edition, 2013). Mike entered the Army Air Corps in 1942, training him as an armorer. After stateside training, he was assigned to the 17th Bomb Group, serving with them in North Africa, Sicily, Italy, France and Germany during World War II. As an armorer in the unit, Mike's responsibilities included maintaining and repairing all manner of weapons, from small arms to aircraft machine guns and cannons, as well as their associated equipment, and was also tasked with loading bombs and other ordnance carried by the aircraft. Mike also provides details of life on an airbase, working and living in harsh conditions, with the threat of enemy attack always present. Also included is an appendix with a brief history of the 17th Bomb Group. In addition to photos from Mike's personal album, dozens of photos of the Martin B-26 Marauder and their crews, and photos of ground crews at work, aircraft on missions, and bomb runs and strike and post-strike photos. 99 photos, 1 drawing.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherMerriam Press
Release dateJun 19, 2015
ISBN9781576382400
The Armorer: My Experiences As a Martin B-26 Marauder Ground Crewman In World War 2

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    The Armorer - Michael Bonchonsky

    The Armorer: My Experiences As a Martin B-26 Marauder Ground Crewman In World War 2

    The Armorer: My Experiences as a Martin B-26 Marauder Ground Crewman in World War II

    Michael Bonchonsky

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    Aviation History 8

    Bennington, Vermont

    2013

    First Edition

    Copyright © 2013 by Michael Bonchonsky

    Additional material copyright of named contributors.

    All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

    The views expressed are solely those of the author.

    ISBN 9781576382400

    This work was designed, produced, and published in the United States of America by the Merriam Press, 133 Elm Street, Suite 3R, Bennington VT 05201.

    Notice

    The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

    Introduction

    Growing up in rural Pittston, Pennsylvania, near Scranton, I was always obsessed with flying. I was a member of the Junior Birdmen of America which was an organization for boys interested in building model airplanes from balsa wood and glue. My father, who worked on the railroad, once brought me to New York to compete in a model airplane contest in Central Park. So I was always interested in flying, and my great desire was to be a pilot one day.

    Naturally, after Pearl Harbor, I tried to enter the Army Air Corps at the Brooklyn Recruiting Center. I needed letters of reference from respected community leaders such as Father Muzinski, as well as my doctor and dentist.

    I then went downtown to the induction center for my physical to enter the Army Air Corps but I flunked! They found albumin in my urine, which disqualified me from flying. I was dejected, to say the least.

    But, one day, as luck would have it, I received my notice and was drafted into the same Air Force I had tried to join three months earlier.

    I shipped out to Biloxi, Mississippi, for basic military training. It was miserably hot! After basic, I took the test to see what I was qualified for. I was offered three choices: mechanic, radio operator or armorer. Well, the first two would mean many more months of training in Biloxi and I had enough of that heat and humidity. Armorer training was at Lowry AFB in Denver, Colorado, where the weather was really beautiful. So that was my choice and it turned out that I really paid for that decision for the rest of the war as well as after I came home. It was the biggest mistake of my life.

    What is an armorer? Simply put, an armorer loads all the munitions (bombs, ammunition, etc.) on the aircraft and sees to it that the guns and weapons release system is in good working order. He works in all kinds of weather, in the cramped bomb bay or the gun turrets and when the powers that be decide that the configuration of bombs he just spent hours loading is not quite what the new mission requires, he must unload them and load the newly required ordnance. Many times we downloaded the 500 lb. bombs we had just loaded and uploaded 100 lb. fragmentation bombs.

    After three months of training, I graduated and was assigned to the 17th Bomb Group, back in Biloxi. While we were at Biloxi, preparing to go overseas, I had one week of free time, so I asked Captain Fast (Speedy was his nickname) if I could go to New York to visit my fiancée, Ladis Dubrowski. He gave me the okay and I was told to draw a parachute from stock for my trip. I then caught a flight on a C-47 out of Biloxi, headed for New York. First stop was Dayton, Ohio, where the pilot told me: I cannot take you any further, Mike. I have too heavy a mail load.

    So I said, OK, I’ll take the train. I went to the train station, still wearing my parachute on my back and boarded a Grand Central Railroad train headed to New York’s Grand Central Station. From there, still wearing that parachute, I rode the subway out to Brooklyn to see my fiancée, Ladis. I spent three wonderful days there before having to take a bus all the way back to Biloxi.

    When I arrived, I immediately went to the CO, Captain Fast. It was said that Captain Fast made a point of knowing the name of every soldier in his outfit. Private Bonchonsky, he barked, you made it back with just ten minutes to spare. If you had been a minute late, you would have had to walk ‘The Burma Road,’ just like Cpl. Mitchell over there. Mitchell had been sentenced to walk back and forth for a full week, with a full pack as punishment for his lateness.

    Later on, we packed up and left for Ft. Dix, New Jersey, our last stop before going to Europe. While there, I had a two day leave, so, without permission, I went off base to the nearest highway to hitch-hike back to Brooklyn to see my fiancée one more time. After a while, a car stopped and the driver called out. Going to New York, soldier? Get on in! After I got into the car, I realized I was sitting with three officers, captains, from the bases. One of them said: Do you have permission to leave the base, private? I nervously replied, No, sir! He then laughed, Well, we don’t either, let’s go! It would be over two years before the war was over and I would see my fiancée again.

    After the war, there wasn’t much use for an armorer on civilian aircraft. Because of my decision not to stay in Biloxi to train as a mechanic, I faced four years of night school at the Academy of Aeronautics at LaGuardia Field in Queens, New York, to get my Aircraft and Power Plant License. Two years later, I became a flight engineer for United Airlines.

    But, on the bright side, if

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