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 are acknowledged, affirmed and commemorated.
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Posted on 01/15/2003 5:36:54 AM PST by SAMWolf
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are acknowledged, affirmed and commemorated.
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Where the Freeper Foxhole introduces a different veteran each Wednesday. The "ordinary" Soldier, Sailor, Airman or Marine who participated in the events in our Country's history. We hope to present events as seen through their eyes. To give you a glimpse into the life of those who sacrificed for all of us - Our Veterans.  To list old Foxhole Threads or to add The Foxhole to your sidebar Click on the Logo
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Dairy of a Ball Turret Gunner  The emotional impact of combat is honestly portrayed in a diary my father, John J. Briol (Pictured with my mother, Marcella) wrote while flying on B-17s during WWII. He was a Ball Turret Gunner of the 457th Bomb Group, 748th Squadron at Glatton Air Field, England. The Pilot's Log, along with comments from the Co-Pilot and Toggalier (Bomb Release Switch Operator) are included. We were fortunate to have as Editor And Publisher, John F. Welch, Col. USAF Ret. Colonel Welch flew combat missions in WWII, staying with the Air Force through the Vietnam War, where he earned the Distinguished Flying Cross. "Dead Engine Kids," The book's title and name of the crew's plane, can be purchased online from the Amazon.Com Web Site. We had our toughest mission this morning so far. My stomach still has a sick feeling and my knees are still wobbly. We bombed Ruhland (Ruhleb). I'll start from the beginning. We got up at two o'clock this morning. It may take me a couple days before I feel like writing about these missions. I don't even like to think about them. Before we eat breakfast some of us who are Catholic go down before each mission for Absolution And Communion. When we go out to face death we can receive Communion without Confession or we can even eat breakfast before but it's not recommended. I feel much better when I can receive like that. Then we went down to briefing. They raised the curtain on the map where our route and mission were laid out. All the airmen groaned. We knew a lot of us wouldn't come back. All they did to console us was to say, "It's not pretty," and they let it go at that. The route was marked so we had to fly all the way across Germany to the other side to Ruhland. We had to pass near Berlin on the way. Our target was the synthetic oil refinery at Ruhland. They throw everything at you there, their rocket ships and everything, not to say anything about flak. After briefing we went to the equipment room where we keep all our flying equipment. We drew parachutes and harness and Mae Wests. We carry .45 automatic pistols in a shoulder holster. (We keep them with us in the hut.) We use electrically heated clothing, pants, coats, gloves and shoes, oxygen mask, helmet and goggles, flak suits, escape kit containing maps, compass, etc., in case one has to bail out or crash land in enemy territory. When you're in the ship you're a mass of wires. One to your throat mike, one to your headset, one to your electric suit and a hose to your oxygen mask. We get one B-4 bag to a ship which contains one extra thing of everything if something should go out on you. We pile all this stuff outside and then we go to the armour building for our machine guns. Before a mission we have to clean the oil off and check everything. We have to take the oil off or they'll freeze up at high altitude. After a mission we clean them and put the oil back on. We have to install them before every mission.  A truck takes us out to the plane. It has to be preflighted, guns put in and a million things checked. We put on all our equipment and take off. After we're over the channel we take our positions and pray that we'll see England again. We usually hit the coast of France, Belgium or Holland. We pass over the lines where we see the boys fighting it out on the ground below. We have to fight it out in the air over Germany. After we get into Germany the flak starts coming up at us but it's not so intense until we get to the target. Fighters won't bother us until we get close to the target, unless we're caught straggling along behind our formation. After hours of sweating it out and praying, we saw Berlin in the distance. It seemed to be smoldering from the pounding we're giving it. We passed near it a little to one side to avoid the intense flak. Then it happened so quick you couldn't think. We heard the report "bandits". they seemed to come from nowhere. The Nazi fighters came barreling through our formations before you could wink an eyelash. I watched terrified as three of our Fortresses went down in flames with their bomb loads and our buddies in them. I saw five men get out of one of them. The rest were lost. One of them kept falling, I never did see his chute open.  By this time I had my guns charged on as one came flashing by our ship. One of our escort fighters was on his tail, pouring lead into him. Besides that, a couple other Fortresses were giving it to him. You could have recognized the pilot if it weren't for his oxygen mask. He must have been dead as he went by. I think about 54 of our Fortresses and Liberators were lost on this raid. We had one engine gone but we kept up with the formation to the target at Ruhland and left it in flames. We turned around and beat it back across Germany. It wasn't long and another engine quit. I was never so scared in my life because we didn't have enough power to keep up with the formation. We couldn't keep up with them so we were left straggling across Germany on two engines and losing altitude. When you're all alone like that your greatest fear is enemy fighters ganging up on you. They were getting our range from the ground and the flak would come up and almost knock us down. We lost altitude down to about 10,000 ft. Then the engines seemed to hold us. God was with us though because we weren't attacked. Every time we saw a speck on the horizon we were terrified. We sweat it out for hours over Germany until we finally passed over the fighting lines into France, the happiest moments of our lives. We almost headed for Switzerland because it was closer but our engines managed to carry us back over the channel. Coming back from a mission and seeing the shore of England is the sweetest thing in the world.
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Oct. 7, 1944:
We Bombed Politz Today. All Three Ships In The Lead Element Were Shot Down Over The Target. Colonel Luper, Our Group Commander Was Lost. I Think Two Men Got Out Of His Plane. We Were Hit Over Fifty Times, Holes Everywhere. Every Direction I Looked Flak Was Bursting. I Must Have Prayed Out Loud. I Could Smell The Flak Through My Oxygen Mask. I Was Sweating Even At 40 Degrees Below Zero. The Ship Flying On Our Left Wing Got A Direct Hit In The Nose. It Almost Crashed Into Us Out Of Control. One Man's Body Was Hanging Half Way Out Of What Was Left Of The Nose, Most Of His Clothes Blasted Off. In The Ball I Was Practically Looking The Bursts In The Face As They Tracked Us Along And Kept Exploding Right Under Me...
Nov. 2, 1944:
Our Target For Today Was Merseburg. There Was Very Little Flak Over The Target But There Were Enemy Fighters Galore. I Was Blasting Away At The Nearest One As He Was Coming Up On Us. I Saw His Prop And Cowling Go Flying Away And Part Of His Wing Tip Go Sailing Behind Him. The Ship Behind Him, I think I damaged. Our Tail Gunner Was Also On Him. He Turned Away Smoking. Then, Like Last Time, Our Fighter Escort Was There And It Seemed Like There Were Planes Falling Everywhere. One Fortress Exploded Behind Us. A Man Was Thrown Through The Side. I Think We Lost Nine Fortresses...
Nov. 30, 1944:
We Had To Crash Land In Belgium But Our Whole Crew Is Safe. Our Target Was Bohlen, On The Other Side Of Germany, Next To Leipzig. Then And There I Never Saw Such Horrible Flak In My Life. Fortresses Started Flaming, Exploding And Falling All Around Us. I Was Praying Out Loud Again. Wham! And Most Of Our No. 1 Engine Was Blasted Away. There Were Heavy Thumps In The Wings And Gas Started Leaking. One Rudder Control Was Shot Away. One Of The Oxygen Tanks Exploded. A Big Piece Of Flak Came Through The Waist. One Piece Thudded Against My Ball Turret But The Guns Saved Me. Our Radio Was Shot Away And The G. Box Burned Out. Our Flaps And Landing Gear Control Systems Were Shot Away. We Decided To Crash Land, Because We Figured We Had A Good Chance. We Came Down In A Field. The Prop On No. 1 Went Flying...
Dec. 7, 1944:
I Saw In The Stars And Stripes Where A Gunner Wants To Go On Missions Because They're Exciting. He's Either A Liar Or He's Crazy. It May Sound Exciting But When You See Your Buddies Getting Killed And You Know You Might Be Next, It's A Filthy, Dirty, Bloody Job... We Just Heard A British Lancaster In Trouble Overhead About An Hour Ago. We Ran Outside In Time To See The Whole Crew Of British Airmen Bailing Out Over Our Field Here. A Few Of Them Were Hurt. The Plane Went Off Over The Horizon. We Never Did See It Crash...
Dec. 27, 1944:
The Target For Today Was Gerolstein, Quite Close To Koblenz. I Can't Explain How A Guy Feels On A Bomb Run. He's Always Waiting For That One Explosion That Will Put Him Into Oblivion. As You Get Closer To The Target Your Heart Beats Faster And Faster. You Breathe Harder And Harder But There's No Air To Breathe. Even When It's 50 Below You Forget About The Cold. Your Nerves Are Strung Up To The Breaking Point. You Can Feel Every Blood Vessel In Your Body Bulging. You're So Nervous And Scared That Every Time There's A Burst Of Flak Or The Plane Jumps A Little, You Think; "This Is The End"...
Dec. 28, 1944:
Our Group Didn't Fly Today. The New Crews Are Up On A Practice Mission. I Think We Helped Things Yesterday. We Went For Transportation And Communication Facilities. We Were In An Area Of Hills Where Railroads Criss-Crossed Everywhere... Major Glenn Miller Is Still Missing. The Nazi Guns Know No Rank. When they Shoot Us Down And We're Armed To The Teeth, I Can Imagine What Happened To An Unarmed Ship...
Jan 14, 1945:
Today, We Destroyed The Huge Bridge Over The Rhine River In Cologne, With Thousand Pound Bombs. The Flak Was Very Accurate. You'd Hear A Tremendous "Whump" And A Concussion And Usually A Flash. Many Times You Would Hear A Loud "Clang" As A Piece Of Shrapnel Went Ripping Through The Ship. I Saw The Cathedral Of Cologne Standing Out From The Rest Of The City. It Looked Like It Was Standing Good Yet...
Feb. 3, 1945:
I Finished My Last Mission Today, But It Was A Rough One, Right To The Heart Of Berlin. What A Horrible Thing To Finish Up On. I Could See Berlin Below, Smoking And Exploding From The First Groups Over The Target. There Were Two Tremendous Explosions Ahead Of Us As Two Fortresses Got Hit And Blew To Bits Right In Front Of Us. Another Got Hit And Went Down In A Steep Dive. Half The Men Bailed Out And Went Floating Down Into The Fire And Smoke. We Lost Forty Bombers...
Feb. 15, 1945:
I Forgot To Mention I Saw Jimmy Stewart, The Movie Actor, Over Here A Short Time Ago. He's A C.O. And Pilot Of A Liberator. He Used To Be With The 389th. He's With The Second Division (Liberators). I Don't Think He's Taking It So Good. He's Nervous And His Hair Is Turning Gray. He Only Has In About 18 Missions And He Started Them Before I Left The States...
Feb. 21, 1945:
Got Off Guard Duty A Half Hour Ago. I Had A Lonely Post Last Night. While I Was Walking My Post, I Was Thinking Of All Sorts Of Things. I've Seen Too Much Happen. It's Not Much Fun To See A Riddled Plane Come Back And See Some Poor Guy's Intestines Splattered All Over The Inside And The Rest Of The Crew Crying Like Babies. When I Have Time On My Hands, It Seems As If I Can't Get Away From The Things I've Seen...
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| 'I've Seen More In A Few Seconds Than Most Men Will See In Their Lifetime' -- John J. Briol 1922-1972 'Statistically, The Most Dangerous Place To Be In WWII, Was In A Bomber Over Germany' -- From "Bombers Of World War II" By Jeffrey L. Ethell |
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Announcing "The Bunker" Dear Freeper Foxhole friends, Free Republic Network chapter leaders and frontline Freeper fighters and property rights activists:
Stop in for a Bunker Moment. Our mission is simple... support our Freeper friends and destroy the enemy. Restore the our Bill of Rights from those who would strip us of them. For a clearly superior Voice Chat application, give it a try tonight, especially during Mark's Night Talk Live. The password for tonight will be: freedom This is a private venue with limited seating! Real first names or a verifiable Freeper handle are REQUIRED. You are welcome to use the room any time for family oriented, grassroots Freeper conservative discussions. Chat room Moderators will be present in PrimeTime hours (7 to 10 p.m.) and will sit in from time to time in off-peak hours. Keep in mind, we may have to cycle visitors from time to time to make room for new visitors. Lurkers are welcome if there's ample room or a program in progress.
If your browser didn't support Form Posts Click on this I will be extending an invitation to some of our Free Republic friends in hopes of stimulating constructive dialogue. A key mission in this project is to support our good friend Mark William at KFBK and his new MSN Group at MarkTalk.com If you haven't joined his forum, please do. Be sure to check out Roger's Rant and the other great discussions. Mark as been a loyal friend to Free Republic and our issues. As always, our primary focus remains our nation's veterans, military personnel and those who feed America; the endangered ranchers and farmers of America. We will be a small group at first and grow as the will to make a difference translates into ACTION. Out there in Freeperland are bright ideas, solutions and the resolve to see them through. Dave (Comwatch) Jenest
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 The Veterans History Project is a unique opportunity for Americans of all ages and backgrounds to play an important role in the preservation of our national collective memory and to learn important lessons from the rich historical resource we have in our military veterans and civilians who served in support of the war effort. |
By Dennis McCarthy
Columnist
The first name that Marine Pfc. William "Bill" Moore scratched on his canteen cup before his final battle of World War II was that of his dad, Earl Moore, a Marine in World War I.
He was proud of his father, proud to follow in his footsteps and become a Marine himself.
His sisters talked about their brother Monday as they held the rusted, battered canteen cup that became a family treasure last week.
"Bill was still in high school; he didn't have to go," said Dorothy Saraga, one of his sisters, who now lives in Reseda. "He enlisted a week after his 17th birthday in 1942."
He died in 1944, a month before his 19th birthday, on tiny Peleliu Island in the Pacific in one of the bloodiest battles of World War II.
Fifty-eight years later, a couple of former Marines on a tour of military battle sites in the Pacific found a rusted canteen cup sticking out of some dirt under a clump of bushes.
When they dug it out and brushed it off, they found it had belonged to Pfc. William Moore, Echo Company, 2nd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment.
They turned it around and saw the name Earl Warner Moore scratched into the cup, along with the names of Bill's brother, Roy Moore, and sister Elizabeth, both of whom had joined the Marines in World War II. Dorothy was too young to join but later married a Marine.
"What should we do with it?" Dan King asked John Edwards about the cup.
"Only one thing we can do with it," Edwards said. "Find them."
And that's just what they did -- spending months going through old high school yearbooks, telephone books and Marine archives to find out what happened to the Earl Moore family that lived in Sunland back in the '40s.
Last week, King and Edwards flew into Van Nuys Airport to deliver the cup, found in the dirt of a tiny 5-square-mile island in the Pacific, where 20,000 died more than a half-century ago.
They personally wanted to let Pfc. Moore's sisters know that their brother was thinking of his family right to the end.
Dorothy got the first call in July. It was someone from her alumni association at Verdugo Hills High School.
"She told me two men had called her looking for the Moore sisters, and she didn't feel right about giving them my number without asking my permission," Dorothy said. "I asked her what they wanted, and she said it had something to do with my brother Bill and an old cup."
The men on the phone were King and Edwards, who had already made two trips to the Valley from their homes in Fullerton to locate Moore's next of kin.
"We talked to Realtors, went to the library, tried the historical society, but weren't having much luck," Edwards said. "Then we got the yearbook from Moore's high school and saw he had two sisters.
When Dorothy hung up the phone after talking with the men, she sat there shaking her head, remembering some of the toughest days of her family's lives.
"The day my parents got the telegram saying Bill had been killed in action, I was in high school," she said. "Dad came and got me out of class. He was crying. We all were."
When Dorothy called her sister, Elizabeth Brich, living in Van Nuys, and told her about Bill's old canteen cup, Elizabeth was stunned.
"It's amazing that all these years later not only would the cup be found, but that our names Bill scratched on it would still be so clear," Elizabeth said.
"Amazing, too, that these men would take all that time to find us so we could have it."
Not amazing, Edwards said Monday. Just something Marines do for other Marines. Nothing gets left behind, not even an old canteen cup.
"This was a kid who could have stayed in high school for another two years and probably gotten out of serving, but he wouldn't do it," Edwards said.
"He wanted to be a Marine, like his father, and that makes him an American patriot to me."
Dorothy has the cup now, but it will soon go to Bill's nephew for a while, then to the grandkids in the family so they can hold some rich, family history in their hands and learn from it.
But before all that, the sisters will be taking the old canteen cup over to Glenhaven Memorial Park in Sylmar, where Bill is buried next to his father and mother.
They want to share it with their parents, too.
They want to let Earl Moore know that it was his name Bill scratched first and foremost in big letters on his old canteen cup before his final battle of World War II.
--- Dennis McCarthy's column appears Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Sunday.
Thanks to Real Deal for sending this along to post at the Foxhole
(Mudboy Slim on keyboards...conservativemusician doin' the Townsend...LOL!!)
We'll enlighten all we meet...
For our children, we shall FReep...
Truth and Morals that we worship shall live on!!
'Tis Clinton who spurs us on...
Lib'ral Judgement is all Wrong...
Media LIES, but the Sheeple shall catch on!!
We'll re-enforce Nation's Ol' Constitution...
Devolve Power...The Great Devolution...
Laugh and sing and take Slick Willie down!!
Listen to what Limbaugh's sayin'...
Gotta do more than pray!!
Folks, we'll rise to our feet and sing...
"We shan't git fooled again!!!"...No NO!!
We'll raise our voice for our Country with pride...
Ain't gonna listen to Left's Med'yuh jive!!
We'll wake all the Sheeple and smite all Left's spies!!
Folks, you know that the Chi-Com spies always lie...don'tcha?!!
(Kewl synthesizer/guitar combo...maybe a li'l MUD on harp)
YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
FReepers, hit the streets...educate everyone you meet...
Lib'rals' "programs" we'll erase...by the by!!
And the SLAUGHTER of the Left...means momentum for the Right...
Sheeples' fears shall melt away before our sight!!
Right'll re-enforce our Ol' Constitution...
Reject Algore's Socialist solutions!!
Smile and grin at the change all around...
Pick up my ol' harp and sing...ain't like yesterday...
Folks, we'll take to streets and scream...
"FReeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-Muuuuuuud!!!!!!!!!!"
Meet MUD's New Boss...his name is GEORGE BUSH!!
Mudboy Slim
Anybody know how to play this on the synthesizer?! I'm practicin' my Roger Daultrey...
FReegards...MUD
1 Posted on 10/13/2000 01:23:41 PDT by Mudboy Slim (The Clinton Legacy SHALL BE the Destruction of the Democratic Party!!)
SITYS...MUD
Click on pic for "John F. Briol homepage".
Today's classic warship, USS Jacob Jones (DD-61)
Tucker class destroyer
Displacement. 1,160 t.
Lenght. 316'3"
Beam. 30'7"
Draft. 9'9"
Speed. 30 k.
Complement. 99
Armament. 4 4", 8 21" tt.
The USS Jacob Jones (DD-61) was laid down 3 August 1914 by New York Shipbuilding Corp.. Camden, N.J.: launched 29 May 1916; sponsored by Mrs. Jerome Parker Crittendon, great-granddaughter of Jacob Jones; and commissioned 10 February 1917, Lt. Comdr. W. S. Pye in command.
After shakedown, Jacob Jones began training exercises off the New England coast until entering the Philadelphia Navy Yard for repairs. Upon the outbreak of war between the United States and Germany 6 April 1917, Jacob Jones patrolled off the Virginia coast before departing Boston for Europe 7 May.
Arriving Queenstown, Ireland, 17 May, she immediately began patrol and convoy escort duty in waters of the United Kingdom. On 8 July she picked up 44 survivors of the British steamship Valetta, the victim of a German U-boat. Two weeks later, while escorting British steamship Dafila, Jacob Jones sighted a periscope; but the steamship was torpedoed before an attack on the submarine could be launched. Once again a rescue ship, Jacob Jones took on board 25 survivors of the stricken Dapfila.
Throughout the summer the destroyer escorted supply laden convoys and continued rescue operations in submarine-infested waters. On 19 October she picked up 305 survivors of torpedoed British cruiser Orama. After special escort duty between Ireland and France, she departed Brest, France, 6 December on her return run to Queenstown. At 1621, as she steamed independently in the vicinity of the Isles of Scilly, her watch sighted a torpedo wake about a thousand yards distant. Although the destroyer maneuvered to escape, the high-speed torpedo struck her starboard side, rupturing her fuel oil tank. The crew worked courageously to save the ship; but as the stern sank, her depth charges exploded. Realizing the situation hopeless, Comdr. Bagley reluctantly ordered the ship abandoned. Eight minutes after being torpedoed, Jacob Jones sank with 64 men still on board.
The 38 survivors huddled together on rafts and boats in frigid Atlantic waters off the southwest coast of England. Two of her crew were taken prisoner by attacking submarine U-58 commanded by Kapitan Hans Rose. In a humanitarian gesture rare in modern war, Rose radioed the American base at Queenstown the approximate location and drift of the survivors. Throughout the night of 6 to 7 December British sloop-of-war Camellia and British liner Catalina conducted rescue operations. By 0830 the following morning HMS Insolent picked up the last survivors of Jacob Jones.
USS Jacob Jones was named in honor of Commodore Jacob Jones, USN, (1768-1850), a naval hero of the War of 1812.
A Site For Veterans, About Veterans, By Veterans
Posted with permission. My collection of historical links is primarily concerned with military history as seen, heard, and experienced by veterans themselves. I have quite a collection of links to closed military bases and decommissioned ships, as well as to particular aircraft and other organizations. This has been a labor of love with me and I have not linked to any government sites except one that deals with health care. If you have any possible links for me, I would be happy to hear about them. Click on the e-mail icon on the page.
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