MY MOST SECRET MISSION - page 3 the untold story of Yalta by Al Eberhardt |
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The
Big Bash
The
evening's event proved most interesting, yet , in some ways, very strange. The
British
The Commander then raised his wine glass, extended his arm and shouted "Long live the King" there was a thunderous response throughout the hall as the men repeated his words, held out their glasses and took the first drink. This was quickly followed by toasts from both Bucky and the Base Commander to the President of the United States, the Queen of England, the men of the 94th Fighter Squadron, their host Battalion, the First Fighter Group, and finally, to complete victory over the enemy. By now most of us had emptied our wine glasses and the mess stewards were scurrying about refilling glasses with a very smooth Spanish rojo. As I gazed over at the hosts' tables and observed the large number of clustered ribbons worn by many of them, awarded for both campaigns and valor, I thought Gibraltar was probably considered a "sweet plumb" assignment by the Brits---- sort of a respite reward to some of their deserving heroes. Life here, in these permanent barracks----good food, quarters, etc., sure looked plush for combat military personnel, especially compared to what our guys had been experiencing in Africa and Italy. After the chaplain's blessing, we sat down and the Commander graciously extended a warm welcome to the colonel and ourselves. He congratulated us on being selected for our mission, never giving so much as a hint on what it was all about. At the time, it made me wonder if he even knew; in retrospect, I'm sure he did. We then enjoyed a magnificent roast lamb dinner with all the trimmings including fresh vegetables, cake and ice cream. It was almost too much to comprehend; was this really happening or was it some kind of illusion? The best we could muster at our base, near Foggia, was Spam, ersatz mashed potatoes (potato flour and water), canned peas, and a hard, waxy K ration chocolate bar, gray coffee (chicory) and powdered milk. The Commander took his leave shortly after dinner but the wine and warm beer kept flowing far into the night. They had a great piano player. Soon a large group gathered around an ancient upright and sang both English and American songs----some great old tunes with some vulgar verses I had never heard before or since. In fact, even with some words I had never heard before. They were great hosts and everyone was having a wonderful time. Nobody wanted to leave. A lot of wine was consumed that night; I personally only drank a couple of glasses, not being very fond of wine at the time. In spite of this, surprisingly, I still had trouble with recall the next day. Could the wine have been that strong? Much later, someone produced a soccer ball and the Aussie and Canadian flyers challenged the English pilots to a game of ballroom rugby. They quickly piled the tables and chairs to one side of the hall and the mass mayhem that followed was something to behold ! Seemed everybody was calling everybody else a bloody bastard--a few of them actually were bloody !!. Since I had to fly out the next morning, discretion became the better part of valor and I headed for the exit. As I walked toward our BOQ, I could hear the sharp crack of wooden furniture breaking and the thud of drunken players being slammed against the mess hall walls. I could guarantee the resultant damage was blamed on " those damned rowdy Yanks". These gentlemanly officers, who had displayed such decorum earlier, had suddenly turned into raging bulls. Fortunately most of them were just too drunk to hurt each other seriously. I guess many of them were overdue to vent off some steam; I can just hear those guys in their 70's and 80's at their squadron reunions in England, "Remember the bash we put on for those Yanks in Gibraltar? That was a real go !! ". To this day, if someone describes a wonderful party as a "Big Bash" it reminds me of that night ----a really interesting evening. There had to be some aching heads in Gibraltar the next day. Departure of the USS Quincy Nine days earlier, back in the States, it was well after midnight on the evening of Jan. 22, 1945 when the last of what would be a large (fifty-some member) party had arrived and entered a restricted gate at the Union Station in Washington. Upon arrival, the guests, with their suitcases, clamored aboard the President’s special train used in his unprecedented 4th term campaign about 3 months earlier. This time the reporters were replaced by a special detachment of secret service men. Also aboard were: the President, Franklin Delano Roosevelt and his daughter Anna Boettiger, his close personal advisors, General Watson, Judge Rosenbaum, Jimmy Byrnes, Stephen Early, and Jim Flynn, several White House staff, and military medical personnel. It was only two days after the inauguration so the activity at the Washington station that night had all the outward appearances of the beginning of a “good will” cross-country train junket. Subsequently, to the Washington Press Corps and others, FDR had simply vanished that night, not to be heard from for the next month. Even the Vice President was kept in the dark on what was happening; Truman was only advised that the President could be reached in an emergency through the White House staff. In actuality, President Roosevelt's train had, in the early morning darkness, snaked its way 200 miles south, down the old Norfolk and Southern tracks to Pier 6 in the highly secured embarkation port of Newport News, Virginia ----the same site I had steamed from in a large convoy of over 50 ships 6 months earlier. FDR's train arrived there at 6 am on the 23rd. The day before, the 2 yr.old CA 71 heavy cruiser USS Quincy had tied up there and taken on fuel and provisions; they also loaded the President's armored Lincoln limo and secreted it away below decks. The Quincy had steamed in from the mouth of the Patuxent River, about 40 miles below Washington and near a large Navy Weapons Center where it had .spent the previous several days "tuning up" its electronics and test firing some of its weapons. Four months earlier the Quincy had been slightly modified at the Boston Navy Yard. In anticipation of the President's trip, a temporary elevator for FDR’s wheel chair had been installed and the Captain's quarters luxuriated, complete with rugs and bath tub. In retrospect, it seems a big 3 conference might have been planned for November and then postponed until after the inauguration. On that cold January morning, The President of the United States and his party were "piped aboard" the USS Quincy. Most of the Quincy's complement of 1146 men had been ordered to stand formation "below" on the hangar deck for "special instructions"; this prevented curious gawking by the crew, giving the guests some privacy. By 0830 hrs all of the President's party had boarded and the Quincy cast off with its precious human cargo. News of the President and his key advisors being on board generated a lot of excitement and anticipation with the sailors. But within 24 hrs., word had spread among them that the President's daughter, Anna Boettiger, was also on board. This fact caused some hidden resentment among the more superstitious crew members. In those days it was considered bad luck to enter a war zone with a female on board. The Quincy, accompanied by the light cruiser USS Savannah, and escorted by 3 destroyers, headed southeast out of the Chesapeake Bay and into the open Atlantic Ocean. This small navy task force then took up an easterly heading; they steamed a southerly route passing about 100 miles south of Bermuda and zig-zagging across the North Atlantic at the fast pace of 21 knots.They had been at sea for more than a week when they finally approached the coast of Africa and entrance to the Mediterranean at the Straight of Gibraltar.. Final Briefing at Gibraltar At this time (Jan. 31, 1945) our Squadron was having a very early wake-up and breakfast at 0500 hrs, after that the colonel held a short "briefing" in the BOQ orderly room. There they were !! Bucky had tacked onto the wall the maps that showed the parts of the Atlantic Ocean and Mediteranean that surrounded Gibraltar and the local coasts. They showed the flight paths, headings, altitudes and rendezvous times for our day's three flights and were stamped with large red letters-----TOP SECRET !! I don't think I had ever seen the colonel as serious as he was that morning while he slowly unfolded the mysterious plan and our day's scheduled events. He was obviously "uptight", a rare thing for Bucky, and even a little emotional when he confided to us that we were about to escort some of the most important people in the world. With all that had led up to this moment, it did not come as a complete surprise to me; although a few of my friends' expressions indicated an element of surprise. Bucky then described the small task force and who would be aboard the heavy cruiser. I'm sure no one else in that small room knew until that very moment that we would be flying escort for our Commander-in-Chief, Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Colonel Harris then counseled "we must protect them at all costs from any type of enemy plane action". It was truly an emotional time for most of us, as the news sank in, and as the colonel described the things we needed to be concerned with. I began to think about what an awesome responsibility this really was, and yet, I was still too young to vote !! I had this great welling of pride-----a sort of "Star Spangled Banner" feeling. The colonel had cautioned that one of the biggest dangers to the President could come from a single plane "Kamikaze Type" bomb attack. He reminded us that the enemy had many captured Allied planes that were still flyable and could "sneak in" bearing friendly insignia. Our orders were to challenge any plane in the area of the task force---"If any unidentified Bogies ignore our warnings and get within 2 miles of the cruisers, shoot them down----regardless of their markings!" We were also cautioned not to fly directly over the President's heavy cruiser. The colonel gave marked up maps to his flight leaders, Baker and Gonring; he laid out the mission as the rest of us took careful notes on the code names, probable event timing, etc.What he did not explain, and what we gleaned later from other pilots in our First Fighter Group, was that the the task force was headed for the large British Naval Base on the island of Malta. Our 27th Fighter Squadron had been temporarily assigned there. The plan was for Colonel Harris with his Red Flight to make first contact with the task force and escort them from the Atlantic into the Mediterranean.Our White Flight would then relieve the colonel's flight with a 10:00 hrs. rendezvous at approximately 36 degrees N and 3 degrees W. Captain Baker's Blue Flight, in turn, would relieve our flight after the task force had traveled another hundred miles or so into the Mediterrranean. After Blue Flight's assignment, members of the 71st Fighter Squadron, flying out of Algiers, would take over at daybreak the next day. Our White and Blue Flights were to fly to Oran after completing our segments of the escort. Weather forecasted for our part of the escort was excellent----CAVU (ceiling and visibility unlimited)all the way. Bucky explained that the task force would consist of a heavy cruiser followed by a light cruiser; the cruisers would be surrounded by at least 4 destroyers. They are all fast ships and would be traveling top speed (about 30 knots) making a "bee line" through the Strait of Gibraltar. After clearing the strait, they would slow down slightly and resume their various zig-zag patterns across the Med to Malta. Background Information Never before or since would so many of the world’s leaders , both military and civilian, gather together in wartime to plan strategy and direction which would have such a profound influence on the Earth's inhabitants for generations to come.!! Bringing together the leaders of the Allies, their advisors and staff while still at war with Germany and Japan meant the utmost secrecy was paramount in providing their protection. The deployment of their protective forces had to be carried out without a hint to the enemy of what was happening. Any and all communication had to be TOP SECRET !!. Consequently, none of the 50 fighter pilots involved were totally briefed on what was happening. All most of us knew was that we were assigned to a mission code named Argonaut in the Mediterranean area and that we had to protect some very important people. One was code named “the Admiral” (President Franklin Delano Roosevelt) and one was code named “the Colonel” ( Prime Minister Winston Leonard Spencer Churchill). Part of their travel was to be by Naval Task Force and part of it by Army Air Force and Royal Air Force aircraft.This widespread escort operation would eventually cover 3 continents and 16,000 miles. Our First Fighter Group commanding officer, Col. Arthur C. "Sailor" Agan, at 29 was one of the youngest officers to ever command an American Fighter Group. Unfortunately about 5 wks after our operation Argonaut, Colonel Agan was shot down along with his fellow Texan and wingman "RG" Gillen (a close friend of mine). They got hit by 37mm ground fire while flying at about 5000 ft.over the Eastern Front Line (near Wiener Neustadt, Austria). I was also on that mission with them; it had been a planned strafing run on the trains between Linz and Vienna that went awry due to bad weather. The Colonel bailed out and survived in prison camp but RG was killed instantly by the anti-aircraft fire. Hendricks and Coury of the 27th were also killed on that fateful March 31st. The responsibility to come up with most of the detailed escort plans before, as well as during Argonaut fell on young Colonel Agan's shoulders. This brilliant youthful officer was destined to become one of the Air Force's top commanders; Arthur "Sailor" Agan retired in 1970 as a 3 star general. The initial "overall planning" was produced by General Ira Eaker and his staff ( CO, Mediterranean Allied Air Force). The precise path and progress of the President’s trip from Hampton Rhoads, Virginia to Yalta, in the Russian Crimea, and return, was subject to: the utmost secrecy, the vagaries of uncertain winter weather in the region, President Roosevelt’s frail health, military intelligence, and progress of the various meetings. Col. Agan and his squadron commanders Lt. Col. Francis Pope, 27th Fighter Squadron (the nation's oldest squadron) ; Lt. Col. Frank Jones, 71st; and Lt. Col. Francis Harris, 94th “Hat In The Ring” Squadron, had to deploy their P-38’s at the various bases available around the Mediterranean. Because of the uncertainties it was necessary for them to “play it by ear” as the mission unfolded. It required squadrons and flights to “leap frog” each other so that there was always fighter escort and/or interception available to the major participants during the daylight hours regardless of the weather conditions. In 1945 weather forecasting in the region was not very reliable. There was a large radar installation in southern Italy; it was code named "Big Fence". If we encountered really bad weather, their voice was a welcomed one and always seemed able to guide us back to our home base "Space Bar", code for the Salsola Aerodrome at San Severo near Foggia, Italy. Years later, at a First Fighter Group reunion, I learned that the welcomed "voice" was a fellow by the name of Coggins from High Point, North Carolina. He told me that he was assigned to our Group and had nearly all of our pilots' voices memorized. Unfortunately we were, for the most part, out of his range and there was no such facility for the aerodromes of North Africa.Our 94th and the 71st squadrons' 38's were equipped with a pair of 165 gal. "belly tanks" which carried about a ton of additional fuel; they were to be jettisoned away in the event of contact with the enemy. The 27th's 38's were outfitted with a pair of monstrous 300 gallon tanks, made of plywood, for extra long range flying. In general, the squadrons divided up the geography so that the 27th(code named Petdog) was given the Black Sea and eastern Mediterranean; the 71st (code Cragmore), the central Mediterranean, and my squadron, the 94th (code Spring Cap), got the western Med. The 27th had the most glamorous part but we got to be based at Gibraltar, a fascinating place, especially in war time. We also would be making the first contact with the President's task force as he approached the Mediterranean and the last visual contact whenever he left the Mediterranean war zone. |
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