A few of the Pilots
Pilot: Lt. Col. John C. Meyer,Deputy Commander 352nd FG.
Aircraft: P-51d HO-M "Petie 3rd"
Y-29 Victories: 2
WWII Victories: 24
Final WWII Rank: Lt. Col
Decorations:
Distinguished Service Cross with 2 Oak Leaf Clusters.
Silver Star with Oak Leaf Cluster.
Purple Heart.
Croix De Guerre.
Distinguished Unit Citation (487th Fighter Squadron).
January 1, 1945 Combat Log:
Immediately upon getting my wheels up I spotted 15 plus 190s headed toward the field from the east. I attacked one getting a two second burst at 300 yards, 30 degree deflection, getting good hits on the fuselage and wing roots. The E/A half-rolled, crashing into the ground. I then selected another 190 chasing it to the vicinity of northwest of Liege. On my first attack I got good hits at 10 degrees 250 yards. The E/A half-rolled and recovered just on top of the trees. I attacked but periodically had to break off because of intense friendly ground fire. At least on three occasions, I got goods hits on the 190, and on the last attack the E/A started smoking profusely and then crashed into the ground. Out of ammunition, I returned to the field, but could not land as the field was under attack. I proceeded west and was bounced twice by 109's and was able to evade by diving and speed....
Lt. Col. Meyer's "Petie 2nd".
Pilot: Capt. Alex F. Sears
Aircraft: P-51d HO-E "The Sheepherder"
Y-29 Victories:1
WWII Victories: 5
Final WWII Rank: Capt.
Decorations:
Distinguished Unit Citation (487th Fighter Squadron)
January 1, 1945 Combat Log:
"I was flying white 2 on Colonel Meyer's wing. We had just taken off when we were bounced by forty or fifty Me109's and FW190's. One Me109 came at me head-on and we made several passes at each other, both of us firing. On the third pass I got some strikes on his engine and shot part of the tail section away. He started burning and went into a lazy spiral and crashed. I claim one Me109 destroyed.
Pilot: Capt. William Whisner
Aircraft: P-51d HO-W "Moonbeam McSwine"
Y-29 Victories: 4
WWII Victories: 15.5
Final WWII Rank: Capt.
Decorations:
Distinguished Service Cross with Oak Leaf Clusters
Silver Star
Distinguished Flying Cross
Distinguished Unit Citation (487th Fighter Squadron)
January 1, 1945 Combat Log:
I was leading Red Flight. As we were taxiing out to the strip I saw some air activity east of the airfield. The squadron consisting of three four-ship flights, was taking off singly. As I started down the strip, Colonel Meyer called the Controller and inquired about bandits in the vic. As I pulled my wheels up, the Controller reported that there were bandits east of the field. We didn't take time to form up, but set course, wide-open, straight for the bandits. There were a few P47s mixing it up with the bandits as I arrived. I ran into about thirty 190s at 1,500 feet. There were many 109s above them. I picked out a 190 and pressed the trigger. Nothing happened. I reached down and turned on my gun switch and gave him a couple of good bursts.
As I watched him hit the ground and explode, I felt myself being hit. I broke sharply to the right, and up. A 190 was about 50 yards behind me, firing away. As I was turning with him, another 51 attacked him and he broke off his attack on me. I then saw that I had several 20 mm holes in each wing, and another hit in my oil tank. My left aileron control was also out, I was losing oil, but my pressure and temperature were steady.
Being over friendly territory I could see no reason for landing immediately so turned towards a big dogfight and shortly had another 190 in my sights. After hitting him several times, he attempted to bale out, but I gave him a burst as he raised up, and he went in with his plane, which exploded and burned. There were several 109s in the vic so I engaged one of them. We fought for five or ten minutes, and I finally managed to get behind him. I hit him good and the pilot baled out at 200 feet. I clobbered him as he baled out and he tumbled into the ground.
At this time I saw 15 or 20 fires from crashed planes. Bandits were reported strafing the field, so I headed for the strip. I saw a 109 strafe the NE corner of the strip. I started after him and he turned into me. We made two head-on passes, and on the second I hit him on the nose and wings. He crashed and burned east of the strip. I chased several more bandits but they evaded in the clouds. I had oil on my windscreen and canopy so came back to the strip and landed.
All of the e/a were very aggressive, and extremely good pilots. I am very happy that we were able to shoot down 23 with a loss of none. We were outnumbered 5 to 1 with full fuselage tanks. The P-47's on this field did a fine job, and helped us considerably. The co-operation among our fighters was extremely good and we did the job as a team.
Claim: two Me109's destroyed, two FW190's destroyed.
Pilot: Capt. Raymond H. Littge
Aircraft: P-51d HO-M "Miss Helen"
Y-29 victories: 2
Total victories: 10.5
Pilot: Capt. Henry M. Stewart
Aircraft: P-51d HO-P "The Margarets"
Y-29 victories: 3
Total victories: 4
Pilot: Capt. Sanford Moats
Aircraft: P-51d HO-K "Kay III"
Y-29 victories: 4
Total victories: 8.5
Pilot: Lt. Dean Huston
Aircraft: P-51d HO-L "The Hawk-Eye-Owen"
Y-29 victories: 1
Total victories: 2
Pilot: Lt. Col. William T. Halton
Aircraft: P-51d HO-T "Slender, Tender & Tall"
Y-29 victories: 1
Total victories: 10.5
Pilot: Lt. Walter G. Diamond
Aircraft: P-51d HO-D "Twyla Sue"
Y-29 victories: 1
Total victories: 1
Pilot: Lt. Nelson R. Jessup
Aircraft: P-51d HO-J "Peanuts"
Y-29 victories: 1
Total victories: 3
Pilot: Lt. William C. Miller
Aircraft: P-51d HO-S "Sweet Fern"
Y-29 victories: 0
Total victories: 2
Today's Educational Sources and suggestions for further reading:
http://352ndfg.com/Home/Y-29/main.htm
Pilot: Lt. Alden P. Rigby
Aircraft: P-51d HO-R "Eleen & Jerry"
Y-29 Victories: 4
WWII Victories: 6
Final WWII Rank: 1st Lt.
Post WWII Service: 3 years active duty during the Korean conflict with the 33rd Air Division in the Air Defense Command. 25 years with the FAA (Federal Aviation Administration), Retired 1979. 25 years in the Utah Air National Guard, Retired in 1979 at the rank of Major. Decorations:
Silver Star
Air Medal with 7 oak leaf clusters.
Distinguished Unit Citation (487th Fighter Sqdn.)
Few of us were up and about, to even learn of a long escort mission to Berlin, scheduled for later in the day. I had gone to the briefing tent and learned from Col. Meyers that he had requested a short patrol mission before the Berlin run. Huston and I were requested to find a few more sober pilots, just in case. At about 9AM the fog and haze had thinned to a point of being able to see the trees at the end of the runway to the east. General Queseda had just given the ok for a short mission, using only part of our planes. Start engines at 9:00, take-off at 9:20, and be back on the ground at 10: 15. This would give us time to refuel, and meet the bombers overhead at noon.
A few P-47 pilots from across the field were given the same instructions. The briefing was the bare essentials, since we did not expect more than a look at the "bulge." Col. Meyers would lead the 12 planes, and I would be in his flight, as "white 4." This was New Year's Day, and we had not seen the "Hun" aircraft for 2 days. The German pilots could be celebrating a little also, WRONG!!!! Little did we know of their plans for exactly 9:20AM at Asch, and 15 other Allied bases.
I kicked the tires, and climbed aboard at 9:00. The plane had been warmed up, and the tanks -topped off. The cock-pit was warm, and I was ready for a comfortable ride, as I rolled into position behind the Col. The P-47s had taken off a few minutes earlier, and headed straight for the front lines below the clouds. We had just gotten the green light from the makeshift tower, when we noticed bursts of flak just East of the field.
Surprise, and even shock would be an understatement. We next saw what looked like at least 50 German fighter aircraft about to make their first pass on our field. We could not have been in a worse position, unless loaded with external fuel (or bombs). We were sitting ducks, and our chances were slim and none. It was not a difficult decision to take off, since that was the slim chance. The next 30 minutes were filled with action and anxiety, that perhaps had not been seen, or felt before or since. I had turned on my gun heater switch earlier, and now had the presence of mind (and prompting) to turn the main switch on.
The take-off roll was very close, rapid, and somewhat organized. We did not wait for help from the tower, or our own departure Control Officer. We just went. I am certain there were a few short prayers to just get off the ground. I had my own sort of set prayer, consisting of 6 words that had been used many times. Being caught on the ground was simply a fighter pilot's nightmare. We had made the situation even worse by having our fuselage tanks filled.
This would make a big difference in our maneuverability, until about 50 gallons could be burned off. This would be my first take-off ever with the gun sight illuminated on the windshield. Things were happening too fast to even be afraid, that could come later. There was no training to cover such a situation, instinct simply had to take over, and it would have to be an individual effort.
Getting off the ground was extremely difficult. I was fighting Meyers prop wash, so I had to keep the plane on the steel mat a little longer to establish better control. It was of some comfort to just get airborne. Our ground gunners were firing a lot of shells at the enemy, and in all of the confusion, were firing at us as well. This would have been their first test in anything near such conditions, so they were not hitting anyone, but it was a little disturbing.
My landing gear had just snapped into the up position, when I opened fire on an FW-190 which was on Littge's tail. I told him on the radio to "break left", this put the 190 right in my sight. I could see strikes from the tail up through the nose. The plane rolled over from about 300 ft., and went straight in. I then picked out another FW- 190 headed east. It appeared that he was headed for "the Fatherland." I dropped down on his tail and opened fire at a greater distance than was necessary, since I had the speed advantage.
During the chase my gun sight failed. The bulb had burned out, and I did not have the time to change it, even had I known where the spare was. I expended even more ammunition before enough hits brought the smoke and crash in the trees. I was now in very difficult position, no gun sight, low on ammunition, and high on fuel. I had my tracers loaded to show only when I had fired down to 300 rounds. I was now into that short supply, with still a lot of fighting to be done. I knew that mine would have to be at very close range without the sight.
There did not seem to be any over-excitement, or even caution. It was not just another day at the office, but more of a day that all of the training had led up to. The odds were getting better with each minute. And I did have reason to be even a little optimistic. Considering getting off the ground in the first place, and being over friendly territory was much more than could be hoped for a few minutes earlier. The friendly territory added another dimension, since bailing out (if necessary) meant friends on the ground for a change.
I did not have any trouble finding the field after the lengthy chase on the 2nd 190. The flak was still there, though not nearly as heavy, and I could see at least 2 dogfights. I could see a few fires on the ground, and wondered if any could be "ours?" I could see a P-47 in a turn with an ME- 109 at about 1000 ft. I knew that the "Jug" could not turn with the German at the low altitude, which left me with a bit of a problem.
I really needed what ammo I had left for self-preservation, but when the 109 had the advantage, I did not have a choice. As the P-47 mushed to the outside, I came up from beneath, and- from very close range fired enough rounds to see hits on the left wing, through the cock-pit, and right wing. The 109 went in from about 500 ft. Before joining the fight, I reasoned that only I would know of my ammo shortage, and gun sight problem. I thought perhaps sheer numbers would count for something. The fuselage tank would now permit reasonable maneuverability near the ground, and I would very soon need that. I knew that I Was now down to what could be my last burst, even if all 6 guns were working.
My last fight was with the best German pilot I had seen at any time. He could well have been their Group Commander. I would be the 2nd or 3rd P-51 pilot to try for a reasonable shot. He put the 109 through maneuvers that had us mostly watching, i.e. a "split-S" from about 1000 ft. I recall seeing the aircraft shudder, then pull wing tip streamers as his prop wash shook the treetops. He was then back in the fight and very aggressive. I was glad to have another P-51 in the vicinity, since my firepower could only be a bluff as far as I knew. I recall being very impressed by the way the 109 was being flown, and hoped that I could in some way get in a reasonable firing position. I knew that I would only have one chance, (if any) because of his ability, and my limited ammo.
After about 5 minutes, I did not see any more firing from the German. It could have been that his situation was as bad as mine. His maneuvers now seemed to be on the defensive side. It was what seemed like 10 minutes, (but was probably less) before the other P-51 turned the 109 in my direction, where he turned broad side to me from something less that 30-40 yards. It was close enough for me to see the pilot clearly, and what proved to be the last of my ammunition score a few hits on the left wing, the engine, and then shatter the canopy and cock- pit. I had again guessed right for the very close proximity, high deflection angle firing without the gun sight. Some might think in terms of being "lucky." That could well have been, but I am convinced of other factors being involved (help from above for one).
The fight was over, as well as any other that I could see anywhere near the field. I now had time to think, and wonder about what had happened. How had we been able to get airborne? What had happened to the field, and would it be suitable for landing? This would not be a problem, since I still had plenty of fuel to find a field on the Continent, or even get back to England. How many of our planes did not get off the ground? How many of ours lost in the air, or on the ground? What had happened to my gun sight, and could I have done much more with it? I was not happy about wasting so much time and ammo on the 2nd FW- 190.
I was not at all anxious to land, though I knew the fighting had to be over. I would take my chances without ammo in the air rather than be in any hurry to get back on the ground at Y-29, or any field to the west. I could see several fires burning near the field, and what looked like 2 or 3 on the field, but the runway looked good. I could see the rows of P-51's and P-47's, and could not believe the field could have gotten by with so little visible damage.
My fuselage tank was down to fighting weight, and the fight was over. Flying around the area at about 2,000 ft. with more airspeed than usual was a great feeling. I had not been able to use this much speed since chasing the 2nd FW-190. I also had the time and judgment to check to the rear, which I had not done much of before.
Things had happened so fast, and as far as I knew gone so well, that I was getting curious about what the others had been doing. I could see 3 other P-51's in the area, but did not join up. A check with the tower was not all that re-assuring about the condition of the field. After about 15 minutes of looking things over, I decided it would be safe to get back on the ground. I had clearance to land, and would follow the P-51 on what was to be his break on the 360-degree overhead pattern. Instead, he came in on the deck and pulled up in the frequently done victory roll over the runway, with a few flak bursts following him. The ground gunners were still on edge. I had thought of giving the ground troops a little thrill also, but suddenly changed my mind. They had probably had enough for one day anyway. The frost had melted on the steel mats, and the landing was a bit slippery. I was just happy to be back where it all started in one piece.
Landing to the west left only a short taxi to my parking place, and the foxhole used some during this mission by the crew. As I cut the engine, there was some emotion that I had not given any thought to. Sgt. Gillette knew something of what had happened, but of course did not know the numbers, my gun sight problem, or my ammo predicament. He was almost in tears as I made my account to him. I assured him that it was most probable that I had done better without the sight, because of the low altitude, and very close range. We had always had a close relationship, but the events of this day, and our visible emotions about what had happened, left us with even more common bond.
It was almost unbelievable that we had not lost any aircraft, or that damage on the ground was mini- mal. The only injury was almost humorous, a sprained ankle for Lt. Doleac, as he stumbled while running for a foxhole. I do not recall any celebrations. There was a lot of excitement, but nothing that was not rather subdued, or even "matter of fact."
We would be the only base out of 16 airfields attacked that morning to "survive." American and British losses at other bases totaled some 400 aircraft, with some estimates much higher. Some 1200 German planes were involved, departing several airfields, and timed to arrive at their target base at exactly 9:20AM. There could not be any manuals written, or even instructions given to cover the emergency we found ourselves in. At least 2 years of training, and considerable combat experience suggested (demanded) that we get airborne at any price. The timing of our take-off, however risky, had probably saved lives, and certainly saved the near 100-parked aircraft on the field. Another miracle, 9 of us had shot down 23 of the German fighters, without losing a plane or pilot. This encounter has been referred to as "The legend of Y-29." I would also add the word "miracle" in that title.
The Germans had suffered only minor losses, except at Asch, where almost half of the attacking force had been shot down. An ironic twist to the operation came as the Germans were returning to their bases. Their High Command had failed to notify the anti-aircraft unit guarding the well-defended V-2 launching site at Wilhelmshaven of their return route. Their gunners apparently did not know of the big morning operation, and the cloud cover prevented any visual recognition of the many aircraft seen on their radar screens headed toward the site. The officers in charge naturally assumed this to be an Allied raid on their most valuable V-2 rocket target. The very latest German radar guns, with the most experienced gunners opened fire on their own planes. German records revealed that some 140 planes were shot down before the firing could be stopped. Another 30 pilots had bailed out after getting lost, or running out of fuel. A very tragic end following a very successful earlier surprise mission.
I have re-lived that day many times over the years since. It had to be a once in a lifetime experience for any involved. We were in the right place at almost the wrong time. One minute, or even 30 seconds later, and the day would have been a total disaster. I would probably have been history, instead of writing it. Being in take-off position on the runway, we would have been the Germans' first targets.
My 2nd mission of the day was un-eventful, except for a rough engine. My landing was a little fast for the still wet runway. My brakes raised the tail wheel several times while trying to slow the bird down. Turning off the steel mat runway was also "hot", and I came very close to a twin-engine aircraft waiting to take off. I returned a friendly wave, and gave them a "thumbs-up." I learned a few minutes later that the 2 Generals on board were Spaatz and Doolettle. They had come to congratulate us on "the morning action."
The afternoon brought some anxiety as well. At a briefing following the 2nd mission, we were startled by a near-by bomb blast. We were all a little "jumpy", until we saw what had happened. A P-47 had to land with one 500 lb. bomb hanging under his left wing. The rough landing strip shook it loose, and the blast blew the aircraft apart right behind the cock- pit. The thick armor plate behind the seat had limited the pilot's injuries to nerves and scratches. Nerves and perhaps other unusual conditions contributed to another tragic afternoon accident. A flight of 4 British Typhoons, based about 30 miles west of us, were just south of our field when a P-51 from another Sqdn. in our Group mistook the flight for German. A gross error cost a British pilot's life (and plane). I was out over the front lines, some 20 miles to the east when this happened.
I begin the news part of my evening letter to Eleen; "Well darling, it is New Years night, and I may have started the year out right as far as flying and Uncle Sam are concerned. I've had quite a lot of action today, but there isn't much I can say about it right now. I feel that I could write a book about it, but tonight I can't even write a long letter. You might hear, or read about the day's action before this letter arrives. I will give you all of the details later, but for now I share only that I am an Ace." I knew she would know exactly what that meant, since that was the dream of every fighter pilot. I close my letter by telling her, "be real careful honey, and know that you are with me in all that I am doing, today was exciting, right?"
As the war related events of Christmas day were perhaps the kind to be forgotten, those of New Year's Day were to be remembered. Newspaper and other lengthy accounts of the battle were quite authentic, except for some of the loss reports. For our Squadron's part on this day, we were awarded the "Distinguished Unit Citation." We were the only Squadron to receive this award in the 8th AF during WWII. For my part, I was awarded the "Silver Star," the 3rd highest service medal.
Those reading this, and other accounts, should understand that it is impossible to express the feelings, and perhaps a lot of the action as it actually happened. Please understand also, that as an officer, I had made the commitment to fly and fight while defending this Country. I also had my personal reasons for wanting the War over with as soon as possible.