Posts Tagged ‘World War II’

USS Carr completes visit to Murmansk

Monday, September 12th, 2011

USS Carr

The guided-missile frigate USS Carr (FFG 52) departed Murmansk, Russia, Sept. 5, after completing its third port visit to Russia since late June.

During their visit, Carr sailors participated in a community service project and hosted a reception on board for local government officials and special guests. Among those guests were veterans of the Polar Convoys. During World War II, the men who ran these convoys supplied much-needed aid, from the Allies, to the Soviet Union in their fight against Germany.

“Most Americans will not have the opportunity to visit Russia once in their lifetime and my Sailors have been fortunate enough to visit three distinct areas of Russia,” said Cmdr. Patrick Kulakowski, Carr’s commanding officer. “Many Sailors state that they joined the Navy to see the world; my crew has most definitely had that opportunity this deployment.”

Carr sailors also visited a local Russian Naval museum and participated in two wreath-laying ceremonies. The first wreath was presented at the Alyosha monument, the Russian memorial to the unknown soldier of World War II. The second wreath was presented at the memorial for the Russian submarine Kursk, which sank in August 2000, losing all 118 crew members aboard.

“It was an honor to visit the memorials,” said Petty Officer 2nd Class Eric Nobriga, hospital corpsman, who attended both wreath-laying ceremonies. “Everyone has repeatedly expressed their gratitude for the assistance that the allies provided during World War II.”

Upon departure from Murmansk, Carr crew members manned the rails and rendered honors as they passed the final resting place of the liberty ship SS Thomas Donaldson, which was sunk in March 1945.

Carr is home ported in Norfolk, Va., and is on a three-month deployment supporting maritime security operations and theater security cooperation efforts in the U.S. 6th Fleet area of responsibility.

By Petty Officer 2nd Class Jeff Troutman
Navy Public Affairs Support Element-East Detachment Europe
DVIDS

US Paras Liberate Sainte Mere Eglise

Friday, June 5th, 2009
Two stained glass windows in the church in Sainte Mere Eglise, France, that is dedicated to the paratroopers of the 82nd Airborne Division who liberated the town, June 6, 1944, the first town in France to be liberated in World War II. Photo by Sgt. Fay Conroy

Two stained glass windows in the church in Sainte Mere Eglise, France, that is dedicated to the paratroopers of the 82nd Airborne Division who liberated the town, June 6, 1944, the first town in France to be liberated in World War II. Photo by Sgt. Fay Conroy

It was the middle of the night and the town of Sainte Mere Eglise was on fire. Occupied by the Germans since June 18, 1940, the town had survived several allied air raids.

A stray incendiary bomb from one of those raids had set a building near the town square on fire and it was spreading. The townspeople formed a chain to ferry water from the pump in the town square to the fire.

At about 1:30 a.m. that day — June 6, 1944 — the sky filled with hundreds of American paratroopers from the 82nd Airborne Division. Well lit by the flames beneath them, the paratroopers were easy targets for the startled German soldiers on the ground. One of those paratroopers was Pvt. John Steele of F Company, 3rd Battalion, 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment. Steele was already a combat veteran, with combat jumps into Italy and Sicily under his belt prior to D-Day.

During his landing, Steele’s parachute became caught in the steeple of the church in the middle of the town square. Shot through the foot, Steele hung there for two hours pretending to be dead before the Germans noticed him and cut him down.

“There were some paratroopers who landed nearby, but they didn’t help him because they thought he was dead. The Germans thought he was dead also, but they wanted whatever papers he had on him and that is when they discovered that he was alive,” said Patrick Bunel, a curator at the Airborne Museum here.

The German soldiers took him prisoner, but Steele was able to escape once tanks that had landed at Utah beach arrived. At approximately 4:30 a.m. Sainte Mere Eglise became the first town in France to be liberated. The fighting around the town continued until June 7, when the Germans were finally pushed back. Steele was awarded the Bronze Star for valor and the Purple Heart for his actions during the invasion.

 An effigy of John Steele is displayed on the front of the church in Sainte Mere Eglise, France. Steele, among the Soldiers of the 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, who jumped into the town on D-Day, became famous after his chute caught in the tower of the church as he was landing. Photo by Sgt. Fay Conroy

An effigy of John Steele is displayed on the front of the church in Sainte Mere Eglise, France. Steele, among the Soldiers of the 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, who jumped into the town on D-Day, became famous after his chute caught in the tower of the church as he was landing. Photo by Sgt. Fay Conroy

Today a uniformed mannequin hangs from a parachute and rigging on the steeple, in honor of Steele (who actually landed in back of the church), his fateful jump and the liberation of the town below.

“When I first saw it [the mannequin], I didn’t know that it had actually happened,” said Pfc. Cory Peppeard of the 230th Military Police Company, 18th Military Police Brigade, one of hundreds of U.S. service members here to support this week’s 65th anniversary commemoration of D-Day. “It’s pretty impressive that he was able to survive that.”

Sainte Mere Eglise secured Steele a place in history as a Soldier in the division that helped to liberate the town, but also as the paratrooper who landed on the church. It was a scene that would be recreated 18 years later in the 1962 movie, “The Longest Day,” in which Steele was portrayed by the actor Red Buttons.

Steele regularly visited here before his death in 1969 from cancer. But he was not the only American the town remembers.

Their actions here have also been captured in two stained glass windows in the church. One was designed in 1945 by a local artist named Paul Renaud, who was 14 years old when the paratroopers landed and 16 years old when he drew the sketch for a window made by Gabriel Loire in the village of Chartres.

It depicts the Virgin Mary and child above a burning Sainte Mere Eglise with paratroopers and planes around her. An inscription below the figures reads: “This stained glass was completed with the participation of Paul Renaud and Sainte Mere, for the memory of those who, with their courage and sacrifice, liberated Sainte Mere Eglise and France.”

“My father worked with the parish to come up with an idea to replace the original window, which had been destroyed,” said Henri Jean Renaud, whose father was the mayor of Saint Mere Eglise at the time. Renaud was 10 years old when the paratroopers landed.

A second window depicts Saint Michael, the patron saint of paratroopers. The 82nd Airborne Division, the lion of Normandy, the Sainte Mere Eglise insignia and symbols for each of the combat jumps made by the 82nd Airborne Division during World War II are also represented in the window.

The idea for the window began at the 25th anniversary of the jump and was donated by the veterans of the 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, in 1972. The same artist that made the first window also made the second. The inscription at the bottom reads: “To the memory of those who through their sacrifice liberated Sainte Mere Eglise.”

While the mannequin and windows are but inanimate objects, Renaud said, they help keep the memory of very real heroes alive.

“We are really very devoted to the veterans,” said Renaud. “For me, when they landed, they were like heroes in a movie. Now they are brothers.”

DVIDS
Story by Sgt. Fay Conroy

Our Best: WWII Babes Edition

Wednesday, October 1st, 2008

Just as the men who fought World War Two are heading home to God in increasing numbers, so too are the women. The Air Force has done a nice thing by seeing that some of these courageous pioneers are recognized and get to fly at least one more time.

Maj. Jennifer King escorts Kay Gott, an original member of the Women Airforce Service Pilots from World War II, during the WASP's final flight on a C-130 Hercules Sept. 25 at Irving, Texas

Maj. Jennifer King escorts Kay Gott, an original member of the Women Airforce Service Pilots from World War II, during the WASP’s final flight on a C-130 Hercules Sept. 25 at Irving, Texas. Major King is a C-17 Globemaster III pilot with the 315th Airlift Wing from Charleston Air Force Base, S.C. (U.S. Air Force photo/Tech. Sgt. Dawn Price)

Capt. Roseanne Teckman escorts an original member of the Women Airforce Service Pilots from World War II during the WASP's final flight on a C-130 Hercules Sept. 25 at Irving, Texas

Capt. Roseanne Teckman escorts an original member of the Women Airforce Service Pilots from World War II during the WASP’s final flight on a C-130 Hercules Sept. 25 at Irving, Texas. Captain Teckman is a flight nurse with the 315th Airlift Wing from Charleston Air Force Base, S.C. (U.S. Air Force photo/Tech. Sgt. Dawn Price)

Heroes: Walter R. Bieder

Wednesday, November 10th, 2004

DefenseLINK

By Rudi Williams
American Forces Press Service

WASHINGTON, Nov. 10, 2004 — Not only is Walter R. Bieder, 83, a true American hero, he’s one of the luckiest men alive.

A combatant in several hard-fought, bloody battles of World War II, Bieder earned two Silver Star Medals and two Bronze Star Medals for heroism without even getting a scratch.

“God was looking out for me,” said Bieder, a retired Parma, Ohio, police officer who now lives in Woodbridge, Va.

An Army private first class when he hit Omaha Beach on D-Day, June 6, 1944, Bieder was later decorated with the Silver Star Medal “for gallantry in action in the vicinity of Colleville-sur Mer in Normandy, France,” according to the award citation.

The citation states, “Acting solely on his own initiative, Sergeant Bieder crossed a dense minefield under heavy fire and captured a number of enemy snipers. After delivering his captives to the command post, he rejoined his section and led a successful assault on the well-fortified machine gun placement.”

Bieder recalls slipping a hand grenade onto the launcher of his M1 rifle and firing the grenade at a machine gun nest. “It went right in front of them,” said Bieder, who later turned down a battlefield commission to lieutenant because he would have had to leave his unit. “So I quickly put another one on, brought her up a little bit, and boom — I got him.”

About three weeks later, he was cited for gallantry in combat the second time. This time he was awarded the Bronze Star Medal with V device for valor during ground combat in Belgium in September 1944. He was recommended for a second Bronze Star on New Year’s Day 1945 for valor in action near Czechoslovakia. But, it was more than 20 years before he was presented his second Bronze Star Medal because of a paperwork mixup. It was mailed to him in January 1964.

Bieder earned his second Silver Star, the nation’s third highest decoration for valor, while serving with Company E, 2nd Battalion, 16th Infantry Regiment, during the Battle of Hurtgen Forest. He was cited for gallantry in action in the vicinity of Weisweiler, Germany, on Nov. 26, 1944, when his company was “impeded by intense enemy fire from numerous camp placements concealed in the thick of foliage of the Hurtgen Forest.” The Battle of Hurtgen Forest was fought from September 1944 to February 1945 south and east of Aachen, Germany.

The decoration’s citation states in part, “Sergeant Bieder fearlessly exposed himself to a barrage of enemy fire. He reorganized his men and bravely landed a successful attack against the foe.”

Bieder started his trek across the battlefields of World War II when he joined the Army’s 1st Infantry Division when the unit was bivouacked outside of Oran, Africa. On July 10, 1943, he fought in the invasion of Sicily. “It took us more than a month to capture Sicily,” he noted. “Then we bivouacked outside of a town called Licata, Sicily, where we stayed until the war ended in Sicily in August.”

In early November 1943, the unit sailed from Sicily to England to prepare for the D- Day Invasion. “All hell broke loose when we hit Omaha Beach,” Bieder noted. “The tide was out, so we had a long beach to cross with a lot of obstacles, including land mines. Only four guys from one of our landing craft got out of the landing craft alive.

“When they dropped the ramp of the landing craft, the Germans cross-fired right into it,” Bieder said. “Four guys jumped off the rear of the landing craft; that’s how they got out alive. When we stepped off the landing craft, we went down in the water up to your neck. And we lost a lot of equipment there due to that. “When we got on the beach the water was red with blood and bodies all over the beach,” he continued. His unit fought its way inland until being pinned down in a hedgerow by the Germans. “We couldn’t move and our radio communications was cut off so we couldn’t communicate with our company commander,” he said. “Then we started getting hit by friendly fire because the Navy didn’t know we were out that far.”

Under the cover of darkness, the unit made it back to its company area. “There wasn’t many of us left,” Bieder noted. Bieder said he’d never forget the tears flowing down his company commander’s face on D-Day night. “He cried because he said they lied to us,” Bieder said. “The beach was supposed to be full of bomb craters, and we were counting on them being there, but there were not any around to use as foxholes.” According to Bieder, his commander cried because there were only 60 men left out of a reinforced company of more than 200 troops. “We were so battered that we couldn’t even take our first objective,” the combat hero said, adding that all the unit’s tanks had sunk in the surf “the guys and all.”

Reinforcements and equipment arrived in about a week to kick off the push through France. The Army Air Corps paved the way through France with wave after wave of bombers. “It was quite a site to see — the sky was black with bombers,” Bieder said. “They just kept coming over and dropping bombs out in front of us — just dropping for two hours! After that, we started our push through France. “Some of the people and some of the Germans who survived, were running around like they were wild,” he continued. “I mean, the percussion of all them bombs and everything. There were dead cattle all over the place.”

Bieder said he doubts anyone who claims he wasn’t scared on D-Day. “Nobody can tell me they wasn’t scared,” he said. “The worst part is when you’re waiting to go into combat. After the fighting started, it was just a little different. But the initial waiting, waiting. That gets you. I was scared, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

His unit bypassed Paris and went to Belgium, but some of them went to Paris after the city was liberated for a bit of rest and recuperation shortly before the Battle of the Bulge, which was fought from Dec. 16, 1944 through Jan. 25, 1945.

Military historians called it “the coldest, snowiest weather in memory in the Ardennes Forest on the German/Belgium border.” More than a million men, 500,000 Germans, 600,000 Americans and 55,000 British fought in the battle. There were more than 100,000 German casualties, killed, wounded or captured; 81,000 American casualties, including 23,554 captured and 19,000 killed; and 1,400 British casualties, of which 200 were killed.

That was another fierce battle Bieder survived unscathed.

“That was one of the worst winters in Europe’s history,” the he noted. “Believe me, the Lord was watching over me. At one point, it was so cold and my (olive drab) overcoat was so frozen that when I slipped out of it, the damn thing stood up by itself!”

Bieder recalled the night he and four other soldiers crawled to the edge of a pillbox where they heard German voices. “I hollered out in German to come out, surrender, or I’m going to kill all of you,” said Bieder, whose grandmother taught him to speak German. “Fourteen of them come out of there. “I felt so sorry for an older German who grabbed me and pleaded with me not shoot him,” he said. “I told him I wasn’t going to shoot him. We marched them back to our areas and sent them to a (prisoner-of-war) compound.”

Bieder said he went through “hell” during the war, but one of his unforgettable memories was Thanksgiving dinner in 1944. “I’ll never forget Thanksgiving in ’44,” he said. “They said all the troops were going to have turkey for Thanksgiving. We did get turkey — cold turkey sandwiches with cold coffee! It was a cold rainy day, and we were sitting in foxholes with water up around your waist. But boy, damn it, it tasted good!”

When he was discharged from the Army, Bieder became the manager of a movie theater where he had worked before going to war. He later became a policeman in Parma, Ohio, and retired in 1969. He met his late wife, Eleanor, at the theater, and they were married on Oct. 7, 1948. She had four children before their marriage and the couple had seven more children together.

Reflecting over the affect of his combat experiences on his life, Bieder said, “I had a little rough time sometimes. My mother said shortly after I was home, I used wake her up hollering and screaming, ‘Watch out! Get that!’”

After the nightmares subsided, Bieder was closemouthed about his wartime experiences. “I just didn’t talk about it,” said Bieder, a member of the Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 7916 in Occoquan, Va. “A lot of people would ask me questions, and I’d just say, ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ The only time I ever talked was if I knew it was somebody that understood. “I never even said much to my kids about it,” said the father of six girls and five boys.

Bieder said there’s now a book out about his platoon’s exploits called “Until the Victory is Won,” written by David Allender.

American Hero: Colin Kelly

Tuesday, February 24th, 2004

Over the last few days, sparked by a bluegrass song from the WW II era, I’ve been pondering the American heros that no one learns about anymore. I had never heard of Colin Kelly until I heard the song, and I suspect you haven’t either.

Copyright ‘ Air Force Magazine
On the morning of Dec. 10, 1941, six B-17Cs of the 14th Bomb Squadron, 19th Bomb Group, sat in the rain at a rough landing strip near San Marcelino on the Philippine island of Luzon. The crews had spent the night without food, sleeping in or under their planes. Of the war situation they knew little except that Japan had attacked Clark Field and other installations near Manila on Dec. 8–Pearl Harbor on the 7th–and some 400 Japanese aircraft had destroyed most of the US B-17s and pursuit planes.

Squadron Commander Maj. Emmett “Rosy” O’Donnell Jr., had flown to Clark before daylight to get orders for his squadron. He radioed his pilots to proceed to Clark at daybreak. Only three of the B-17s were allowed to land. They were flown by Capt. Colin P. Kelly Jr., and Lts. George E. Schaetzel and G. R. Montgomery. Captain Kelly, a 1937 graduate of the US Military Academy and a former B-17 instructor, was one of the most experienced and respected pilots of the 19th Bomb Group.

An imminent air attack sent the three bombers off to their respective targets before refueling and bomb loading were completed. Captain Kelly had only three 600-pound bombs aboard and orders to attack airfields on Formosa (Taiwan), some 500 miles north of Clark. The mission would earn Colin Kelly a place in American history and legend.

In the confusion of the early days of the Pacific war, Kelly was credited with sinking a Japanese battleship and with award of the Medal of Honor. Overnight he became a national hero. It later was determined that Kelly and his crew did not sink a battleship, nor was he awarded the Medal of Honor, although some still believe both. In fact, Colin Kelly was recommended for the Medal of Honor by Maj. Gen. Lewis H. Brereton, commander of the US Far East Air Forces. The award he received was the Distinguished Service Cross, on the orders of Gen. Douglas MacArthur’s headquarters.

This is what actually happened, as told in mission debriefings by members of Kelly’s crew and in an official report of the mission prepared in February 1942.

For Captain Kelly and his crew, it was a solo mission deep into territory where the Japanese held absolute air superiority. They had no fighter escort. By Dec. 10, there were only 22 flyable P-40s and a few obsolete P-35s left. As they flew north toward Formosa, Kelly and his crew passed over a large Japanese landing in progress at Aparri on the north coast of Luzon. The presence of an enemy carrier in the vicinity had also been reported.

Kelly radioed Clark Field for permission to attack the landing force, which was supported by several destroyers and a large warship, thought to be a battleship, bombarding the coast from several miles offshore. After two calls to Clark that brought only a response to stand by, Kelly told the crew they were going ahead on his decision to attack the battleship–actually a cruiser. Kelly made two dry runs at 20,000 feet, giving bombardier Sgt. Meyer Levin time to set up for an accurate drop.

On the third run, he told Levin to release the bombs in train. As best the crew could tell, two of the three bombs bracketed the ship with one direct hit. Smoke prevented more accurate assessment. The B-17 then headed for Clark Field, its bomb bay empty.

As it approached Clark, the bomber was hit by enemy fighters.

The first attack killed TSgt. William Delehanty, wounded Pfc. Robert Altman, and destroyed the instrument panel. A second attack set the left wing ablaze. The fire spread rapidly into the fuselage, filling the flight deck with smoke.

Captain Kelly ordered the crew to bail out while he still had control of the doomed bomber. Fire began to engulf the flight deck. SSgt. James Halkyard, Pfc. Willard Money, and Private Altman went out the rear. Navigator 2d Lt. Joe Bean and Sergeant Levin, after a time-consuming struggle, pried open a stuck escape hatch and took to their chutes.

The nose of the aircraft was now an inferno. Colin Kelly remained at the controls as copilot 2d Lt. Donald Robins moved to the upper escape hatch. At that moment, the bomber exploded, hurling a badly burned Robins clear of the aircraft.

The B-17 crashed about five miles from Clark Field. Colin Kelly’s body was found at the site. The early report of his heroism, which inspired a nation in shock, is in no way diminished by the actual events of that December day in 1941. Alone and far from friendly territory, he attacked and damaged a heavily armed ship, then sacrificed his own life to save his crew.