American WWII Veteran Revisits Crash Site

Yahoo News ^ | August 28 2004 | ANDREA DUDIKOVA/AP

[knighthawk]

DOBRA VODA, Slovakia - John Zebrowski pushed aside some fallen leaves and picked up a piece of debris from his aircraft, still scattered in the Slovak woods six decades after his B-24 crashed during World War II.

"It almost hasn't changed," he said of the forest around the site, dragging his shoe back and forth on the rain-soaked earth.

The emotional tour jolted the 82-year-old from Liverpool, N.Y., who traveled to Slovakia this week with a few other U.S. veterans to mark the 60th anniversary of the Slovak National Uprising, a 1944 revolt against Nazi rule. Hundreds of the uprising's aging participants are also gathering in this central European country for ceremonies Sunday.

The celebrations bring more than memories of some of the veterans' darkest days. For Zebrowski, they offer a chance to reunite with those who risked their lives to help him and eight other Americans who survived after being shot down.

Zebrowski, the co-pilot, and the others on the plane bailed out Dec. 11, 1944, and became separated near Dobra Voda, a western Slovak village.

He hid alongside a path and then asked two passing young women for help.

"They showed me on the map where I was, showed me where the partisans are, and how to go up in the mountains." They gave him food and showed him German troops locations.

One of the girls was Anna Chmelova, who is now 80.

"Who would have ever thought that we'd meet again in 60 years?" she said, walking across the forest floor on Friday with Zebrowski.

Chmelova, whose friend died, never forgot the pilot she called by the Slovak diminutive "Janko."

When an amateur historian traveled to the village a few years ago to ask about the crash, Chmelova grabbed him and demanded to know, "Is Janko Zebrowski still alive?"

The revelation prompted a correspondence — and finally a reunion this week.

Zebrowski said he always wondered about the young women who helped him, but the Cold War stalled his efforts to visit them. Finding them seemed impossible — until recently.

Throughout the day, Zebrowski and Chmelova proved inseparable, communicating with hand signals and what little Slovak he could muster. Chmelova had plenty to say. She wanted him to know she had used his parachute — the lines to knit a sweater, the cloth for shirts, including the one her son was married in.

With the help of a metal detector and a knot of villagers, Zebrowski and David Wicks, the son of another airman in the crash, found small pieces of the plane.

"It was very nice to meet the family who helped my father," Wicks said. "Without them, he may not have come home."

Dobra Voda turned out to be a safe haven for Robert Wicks, Zebrowski's fellow airman — who was hidden for five months by the Macina family. He died before he could visit them again.

Viera Macinova Rybova, 54, remembered how her father told her that they hid the American airman in an underground bunker. When Nazi soldiers were close by, they put him in a wooden box hidden in a manure pile and covered with spicy peppers to confuse the dogs.

Zebrowski later was captured in Slovakia and held in a prisoner of war camp in Germany for three months before the war ended in Europe.

Revisiting the site brought back strong emotions.

"It took a lot of courage to do what they did," he said.

He put his arm around Chmelova and kissed her on the cheek.

[knighthawk]

Ping

[DustyMoment]

When all of those involved in WWII have passed, we will have truly missed the opportunity to get to know these people. Regardless of the side they were on, they combined to create one of the greatest periods of history imaginable.

Even more, the courage of ordinary civilians, such as the two ladies who helped him escape, and the sacrifices and bravery of millions of American, British, Australian, Free French and other allied partners who willingly went in harm's way for the cause of worldwide freedom is breathtaking. I am always struck by the courage of those brave men who charged ashore from the landing craft, knowing that their odds of survival were small - but they did it anyway.

And the men who went into the clouds in aircraft that, by today's standards, are little more than tin cans with engines and guns are equally deserving of our admiration. Because of these and so, so many others, freedom still reigns in many parts of the world.

IMO, they truly were the Greatest Generation.

[VOA]

Zebrowski said he always wondered about the young women who helped him, but the Cold War
stalled his efforts to visit them.

Yep. An Evil Empire does tend to keep people from getting in touch.

This is reminiscent of a post about a German naturalist who could never
get in touch with the family of a US Airman who died when his P-51 crashed in
Germany...because the site (and the naturalist) were bottled up in what became
East Germany.
The Dallas Morning News had a good article of how the pilot's daughter
eventually found out the rest of the story of her father's demise.

[Professional Engineer]

ping

[facedown]

American World War II veteran John Zebrowski, right, whose airplane was shot down in 1944, holds a piece of the plane while talking with amateur historian Jan Babincak, left, and David Wicks, son of an airman who was on the plane together with Zebrowski, Friday Aug. 27, 2004 in Dobra Voda, Slovakia. Parts of the plane are still scattered in the woods surrounding Dobra Voda some 60 years after the B-24 crashed. Woman in background is a member of the Chmelova family who helped Zebrowski after his plane came down.

[SAMWolf]

Viera Macinova Rybova, 54, remembered how her father told her that they hid the American airman in an underground bunker. When Nazi soldiers were close by, they put him in a wooden box hidden in a manure pile and covered with spicy peppers to confuse the dogs.

Thanks for the ping. Viera Macinova Rybova and her family would have been executed if the Nazis found them assising allied Airmen. Acts like this took real courage.