This document is an OCR scan of a 5 page original. It is believed that it accurately reproduces the original
Saved As: Kundrath: Insignia's of B-26 Squadrons
WWII Account of Louis W. Kundrath
January 24, 1997 from Louis W. Kundrath
Insignia's of B-26 Squadrons:
Attn. Jack White
Dear Jack:
Saw your plea for Squadron insignia's and I think I can solve the reason you have received no answer from any one in the 477th Group. I can give you some history about all of this and at the same time I will have to tell you a bit about myself, to give credence to this story.
Learned to fly in 1938, civilian, Was on my way to a commercial license in 1940 when I got word that Canada needed pilots badly and the "Clayton Knight" committee scouring the U.S. for airmen, I qualified and was sent to Canada all with the sanction of the U.S. government whose only stipulation was Canada could not make us become citizens of that country. The U.S. was not yet at war and did not want to let the Germans think they were giving comfort to the enemy.
I have left out three years of military and will give you some idea of how much I wanted to fly. After leaving high school, 1934, I joined the U.S Army Air Corp as an enlisted man and was stationed at Selfridge Field, Michigan, home of the First Pursuit Group that date back to WW-I and at that time were flying P-6Es and P-12s, and finally the P-26 the "Peashooter." I worked as a mechanic and learned more about air planes than most pilots of that era.
Back to Canada and the Royal Canadian Air Force we were given medical tests and finally a check flight in an AT-6 (Harvard). I qualified and to my surprise was sent to an Officers training school. From there to Central Flying School, Trenton, Ontario. After learning to fly this time the "Canadian way". Upon graduation we were presented with a most beautiful document from George the Sixth King of England making me a Pilot Officer, (2nd Lieutenant) in the Royal Canadian Air Force. Never have I been treated so well as in my 2 years in Canada.
Was assigned to a Bombing and Gunnery school in Saskatchewan and flying Fairey Battles a dive bomber with Rolls Royce Merlin engine. All of our students were from either Australia or New Zealand and rode in the back cockpit and fire at the tow targets. After about six months, I was ordered back east to the twin engine school at Picton, Ontario, a ferry squadron was in the making and I was a part of it. Here I was checked out in every type plane Canada had including the best of them all the Kittyhawk, P-40. We ferried 13 types of planes to fields all over Canada.
I was promoted to the rank of Flying Officer, (lst Lieutenant). By that time the U,S. was at war and many of the pilots express a desire to return home. Canada and the U.S. got together and came up with a plan. It was a one time deal. You could either join the U.S. Air Force rank for rank or remain in Canada for the duration. Along with many others, I chose going home.
After changing uniforms and getting a flight with an instructor in a BT-13 the Vultee Vibrator we became genuine pilots and three of us had Volunteered to go to MacDill Field, Florida thinking we were going into the famous B-17. We arrived at Macdill on a Sunday morning and there was no one in sight as we came through, the gate we did see just the nose of a plane sticking out of a hanger. We could not identify it.
Stopping off at Headquarters to sign in, the enlisted man on duty told us it was a B-26 he told us about the accidents and told us all the nasty names it had. We were peaked, but our curiosity was to much for us we had to go see this monster" one look and I fell in love that streamlined beauty, the Martin Marauder, I even liked the name.
The next morning we were assigned to different squadrons. I went to the 313th Sqdrn 21st Bomb Group OTU and soon I was climbing aboard a B-26 and my instructor a young 2nd Lieut. looked a little worried as he checked me out on the instruments and the engine starting procedures. I had never flown a plane with 4000 H.P. and I was a bit worried about that. We taxied out to the runway and the tricycle gear was something new to me. I lined with the runway and away we went after using up nearly all the runway we were finally flying.
In order to become an unlimited B-26 pilot a "student" had to fly 40hrs with the-instructor. We had just completed 8 hours and as we rolled to a stop my instructor told me he was going to talk to "b" C.O, and see if it was necessary to fly out the 32hrs. He said you know more about the this plane than I do. The next day I was to report to the C.O. Major John Porter Tomhave a West Pointer and a real officer and a gentleman. He had all of my papers, enlisted, Canadian and the fact that I was born at Fort Monroe, Virginia and was the son of Master Sgt. John & Kate Kundrath and had flown many different aircraft in Canada. He told me that I was not only going to be an instructor but I was going to be his Deputy Sqdrn Commander and that I would spend any extra time sitting in his office and learning how to run a squadron. Three months later he was moved up to Group and (Captain) Kundrath took over the 313th Squadron 21st Bomb Group
I loved my job and everything was moving along with the training program very well. I had been at Macdill nearly a year and (Jack White is wondering if I forgot about the insignias). Hang in there Jack it`s almost there.
Came the day a notice appeared that we would train only one more Group and that would be the 477th, the Squadrons, 616th, 617th, 618th, 619th. The word was that if we wanted to go in the planes we where highly trained in we had better volunteer now. Every one went for it and so was formed the 477th. I became C.O. of the 616th Sqdrn (see orders enclosed) The upper cadre was sent to Orlando, to the Tactical training School. I remember they were still teaching dropping torpedoes. Enough. By the time school was out we where ready to get our planes and spend a couple of weeks in the field under "Combat" conditions? My plane had the four package guns, 50 caliber and when I fired them, seemed the plane momentarily stood still.
Our next move was back to MacDill only to find that the 477th was not to be. Jack, we didn't have time to get around to decide on an insignia about this I speak for the 616th but I presume, it was the same with the other squadrons. There is a book, titled "B-26 Marauder At War" written by Roger Freeman and if you should have copy you will find confirmation on page 73. So there was a 477th and then there wasn't.
All of the squadron commanders including a group from Barksdale Field were place on orders for overseas ending up in the 12th Air Force in North Africa. and assigned to the three groups of B-26`s. I went to the 17th B.G. 95th Squadron. We had been told that we would take over the squadrons as C.O.`s after two combat missions. At the 12th Headquarters we were told "the outfits were falling apart" and it was be cause we were not only C.O. in the States but we also had considerable "administrative" experience and that was important. Well it proved to be correct. The next move was they took us out of combat for 19 days, flying formation, "discipline" was the, big word of the day. In the next few months we were getting commendations and the Esprit de Corps filled the wild blue yonder with Marauders Piloted by men who were determined to win the war. I was very proud to be with the 95th, "The Kicking Mule" was the insignia drawn up in WW-I.
From there on things continued to improve and we received a citation and even a Presidential citation. In the book, " Air Force Spoken Here," on pages 374, 375,& 376 will give you some idea of what General Ira Eaker had to say about the B-26 and it's participation in the bombing of Cassino even I did not think we were that good. On page 382 more accolades from Sir Charles Portal, Air Minister.
Came a surprise, I was relieved of my command and ordered to the 12th Air Force Training Command where I became Assistant director of Bombardment training. My duty was to write training orders for three Groups of Free French on the B-26. I must put this in. On the day sat behind my desk, it came to me, "must I do this all by my self" I went into the "Director's" office to see if there were any B-26 pilot to help me. The answer from all of them was they wanted nothing at all with that plane. I asked permission to talk to the ,General William S. Gravely, he listened. He came up with scheme to get two combat pilots a month from each combat unit on temporary duty. I was assigned a" Major Adam Altglass, an Ordnance officer who spoke fluent French, we were given a C-61, Fairchild 24 as my plane to get around the fields where the French were.
Altglass became nuts about flying and wanted to learn. So I went back to my old trade as instructor on our trips around the country. Within a month he was making all the landings and take-offs. Though he was a few years older then I he was like a baby with a new toy.
One day as I was typing training orders, I felt a hand on my shoulder and looking up was the Chief of Staff Col. Piddock, I jumped to my feet before he could tell me to relax. What he wanted to know was had I ever heard of a plane named a Cesina and was a twin engine. It had arrived at our field and was to be the general's private plane, and he was trying to find someone that had flown it. I told the Chief that I thought he meant the plane was a Cessna and if so I had a lot of time flying them all over Canada delivering them throughout the provinces. Col. Piddock told me I now had two jobs report to the General and tell him about it, which I did. I said it was twin engine plane known as the, Bamboo Bomber, in the states was also the C-78. The General was an Elderly man and his flying was a bit rusty but we made it. He used the plane considerable but always had to fly with him. Under the circumstances, I love to think that we sort of became friends. One day he called me down to his office and talked to me man to man. Told me the Training command was going to fold and that he was sending me home on rotation and promoting me to Major.
It all happened and here I was now in a replacement depot "waiting for my ship to come in". I was in high spirits when the boom was lowered again. Report to Headquarters, I did and they hand me orders to Proceed to Foggia, Italy to the Chief of Staff of the 306th Fighter Wing 15th Air Force. My transportation To Italy was in a B-17 with only a Pilot and Co-pilot aboard as we climbed up into the wild blue looking out of a small window I am watching all of the gas siphoning out of the starboard wing tank. I brought this to attention of the co-pilot and looking over his shoulder he damn near pulled his ripcord. The pilot rack the plane around pulling "Gs" to were I shrunk from 6'1 to 5'11 but we made it back to the field . The crew chief came running with gas cap in one hand and gas hose in the other. This time we made it.
Arriving in Foggia I immediately went to the office of the Chief of Staff and delivered my orders. A very pleasant man and as he read a puzzled look and "I have no idea" what this all about I will have to check this out. Meantime do you have your flying time in for this month. Yes Sir, would you like to fly B-24s. No Sir, You are a Twin engine pilot how would you like that until I unravel these orders. Yes Sir, I will assign you to the 14th Fighter Group and they will put you in one of their squadrons. "A Bomber Pilots Dream" P-38s.
On arrival went to the officers club. There was a group of pilots at one end of the room and at the other was the bar and only one officer. asking were I could find the C.O. and was directed to the man at the bar. Walking over to present my orders I could see he was a Major. Clicking my heels and giving my best salute Sir, three Times I reported finally he slowly turned around but said nothing. I know now where the word "Stoned" came from. Helping him to turn around, and realizing it was useless, went searching for a bed.
Come morning, I went to his tent and rapped on the canvas and heard a growl. Pulling back the flap, there he was sitting on his cot, trying to tie his G.I. shoe laces and having one hell of a time. The only words that man ever spoke to me in a "slur r r e d" way was..."Have you ever run a squadron before? The operation officer and I are going into Foggia I will be back this afternoon, meantime you are in charge
Over night I became temporary C.O. and that caused a lot of questions from every one. It gave me a chance to meet a lot of people I did not. know. I also found out that I was the only Captain in the squadron. Come the next day and no sign of "the C.O." This went on for three days and I received a phone call from a new Group commander who told me I was the Temporary C.O. and the orders would be sent to the Squadron.
Meantime I checked out in the P-38 and fell in love with it but I had no training in Fighter tactics. Three pilots volunteered to teach me and every day we would go up and practice. Being an old straight and level bomber pilot, flying the P-38 was sheer fun.
New orders came down making me permanent C.O. to my surprise, but still no word of what happened to the other fellows. Then one evening about 2 weeks later he came crashing into my tent (his) to get his belongings he was very angry and would not answer my questions. He stomped out into the night.
I received a letter explaining why my promotion the General sent in was sent in after the 12th AF Training Command was non existent and since there is no Table of Organization no promotion. However my rotation orders finally caught up with me. I was asked by the group commander to stay on because the invasion of southern France was about to take place. I stayed and after the invasion I was on my way home sweet home.
There is much more Jack but I have combat fatigue. I still go to two reunions, the B-26 and the P-38.
Best Regards,
P.S. I hope you will forgive the mistakes it just proves that an "old bold pilot" is still around at 81. I also hope that I have helped you with your project. I loved the B-26 mine carried the name my wife Florence, "Flossies Fury" Battle # 50 it flew for nearly a year and was "war weary" and removed from service and replaced by the plane of fame, the one with the engine shot off. Thank God I wasn't in it.
|