Fortunes of War

Something had gone wrong with the delicate synchronization of an air attack over Germany; escorting Mustangs had failed to rendezvous on time with the Fortresses. The mixup was expensive. A squadron of Focke-Wulf 1903 jumped the U.S. bombers. One Nazi fighter got in a long burst; a Fort exploded in flames. But instead of dropping out of the tight formation, the blazing wreck caromed crazily into the next Fort. That, in turn, hit a third. The third lurched into a fourth, and the fourth into a fifth. Other men of the squadron watched in horror as the five shattered B-17s flamed and fluttered to earth.

Two P47 Thunderbolts, escorting bombers over Germany, found the release mechanisms of their auxiliary wing fuel tanks jammed. Unless the empty tanks could be jettisoned at once, the fighters would have to break for home, their mission incomplete. Their wing pilots came to the rescue. At 300 m.p.h., one mile above ground, the wing men flew formation to within 18 inches of the lead ships, then batted the tanks off with their wingtips.

Over Laon, France, a Flying Fortress got a savage jar. A bomb from another U.S. plane had struck and lodged squarely in the tail, killing the tail gunner. Lieut. Burdette Williams of Tampa, Fla. and his crew stuck with the ship, landed safely in England with the bomb still unexploded.

Over Munich three P-47s shot down a German fighter. But one of the Thunderbolts had taken a bad hit. Just before his ship crashed, Lieut. John F. Hayden, of Newton Center, Mass., radioed a calm, heart-wrenching message to his mates: "My arm is shot off--I'm going in."

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